


Deadman's Float

by stripeypirate



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Amputation, Asexual Mikasa, Childhood Friends, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Grisha Yeager's Bad Parenting, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Jean Kirstein & Eren Yeager Are Rivals, Mentions of Cancer, Multi, Non-Binary Hange Zoë, Past Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein, Slow Burn, Speedos, Swimming, so rivals to lovers?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:44:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 41,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stripeypirate/pseuds/stripeypirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chum:<br/>1. (noun) a close friend<br/>2. (noun) cut up pieces of fish to use as bait for larger fish</p><p>After years of hard work, Eren is finally eligible to try out for The Titans; Sina Aquatic Center's elite swim team. Unfortunately so is his childhood rival, Jean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have not yet seen Free! so if this starts to resemble some sort of unholy crossover, it is 100% unintentional.

The alarm clock blared incessantly in Eren’s ear. He snaked a hand out from under his cocoon of blankets and fumbled around until he finally managed to shut the damn thing off by knocking it onto the floor. A calendar clung crookedly to the wall next to his head. With a bleary glare, Eren determined that it was in fact August twenty-fifth; a date circled in violent red sharpie, accompanied by a circle wearing a grimace and giant, angry eyebrows. Armin had doodled his “game face”. 

_Today’s the big day, Eren!_

He imagined his mom’s voice floating over the sound of bacon and eggs frying in the kitchen.

_She’d poke her head in the door, probably roll her eyes and tell me Mikasa’s already dressed and ready to go, but smile just the same._

He twitched the covers aside, a small shiver running up his spine as his feet hit the floor. The house always felt cold now, even summer. Logically Eren knew that was because his father blasted the air conditioning and never remembered to turn it down at night, but the halls also seemed emptier now that she was gone; sounds muted as the three of them rattled around the place like pinballs in a machine.

Eren dug through a few layers of clothes on his floor, trying to remember which pile held the clean laundry.

_Wait, did I ever take that load out of the washer? Shit._

He settled for a shirt that was, for the most part, visibly clean and passed the sniff test. He debated wearing pants at all, but eventually decided that coming home in his wet swim trunks wouldn’t be worth it.

_Goggles, towel, membership card, water bottle… I think I’m set._

As he grabbed his duffel bag from its customary position under his desk, a worn photograph caught his eye. A small grin tugged at the corners of his lips. He rarely used the desk anymore; it was so covered with old homework assignments and random tchotchkes from over the years there wasn’t really space to study, but he remembered how excited he was when they got it.

_“Now that you’re going into middle school, your father and I think you should start being responsible for your own homework assignments,” She explained, as Eren ran his hands over the smooth, shiny surface._

_He snorted. “I can do that. I bet Jean doesn’t even have his own desk,” he added with a touch of pride._

_“That’s not the point,” his mother chided, “Besides, I ran into Mrs. Kirstein at the supermarket yesterday and she said that Jean’s going to private school this year.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“You sound disappointed.” There was a twinkle in her eye._

_“No way! He’s such a jerk. One day-”_

_“Alright, alright. Hey, don’t you think a desk this nice deserves some decoration?”_

Eren rubbed his thumb over the worn photograph. The cheap, plastic frame had cracked a little but he could still see himself grinning back, hair wet and sticking up in all directions, his mother’s arm wrapped protectively around his shoulder despite the massive orange water wings sprouting from his arms. Mikasa peeked out from around her waist like a curious shadow. He knew the back read _Eren nine years old, first swim lesson._

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips and he slid the photo into his bag alongside his other equipment.

* * *

 

Mikasa was waiting at the kitchen table with a frown and a bagel smeared with cream cheese, which she thrust into his hands.

“Let’s go. We were supposed to pick Armin up ten minutes ago.”

“I don’t like to eat before I race,” Eren grumbled, but he picked away at his breakfast as he followed Mikasa out to the minivan. “Why doesn’t dad ever leave us the car, anyway? Does he think you’re a middle aged woman or something?”

“Would you rather walk?” Mikasa asked waspishly. “If you started now, you might make it before tryouts are over.”

Eren shut himself up by taking an enormous bite.  He forgot that Mikasa must be nervous too, even though she’d never admit it.

A few minutes later, they screeched to a halt outside of Armin’s house, a small single-story ranch tucked between an apartment complex and a defunct dry cleaners. The blond boy was already sitting on the curb, and wasted no time in lunging into the backseat. He clung to his duffel like it was a life raft.

“We aren’t going to be late, are we? I heard Coach Levi is a stickler about punctuality.” His knee was practically vibrating as he bounced his leg up and down, possessed by jitters.

Mikasa revved the engine in response. 

* * *

 

They made it, barely. Eren and Armin tumbled from the boys’ locker room, blinking in the harsh florescent lights of the pool as thirty pairs of eyes pinned them to the deck.

“I didn’t realize so many people wanted to be on the team,” Armin whispered fearfully, casting a wary eye over the competition. “Looks like it’s gonna be tough this year.”

Eren nodded in agreement. He scanned the area and recognized several faces from years of lessons at the Sina Aquatic Center. Connie Springer, who’d been the fastest sprinter in the under-fifteen age bracket, was lounged against the lifeguard chair, chatting with Mina Carolina and Thomas Wagner. Like Eren, this was the first year they were eligible to make the advanced squad.

The older, more experienced members looking to reclaim their spots from last year stood in another knot off to the side. Two massive dudes were flanking a petite blonde girl who, Eren realized with a jolt, was Annie Leonhart.

_Didn’t she win the 500 free at the State competition last year?_

He felt his hands start to grow clammy with sweat. He nudged Armin, whose eyes were getting wider by the second.

“Can’t swim fast if you don’t have good competition, right?”

His friend nodded, but his face retained its sickly pallor. 

“Oi everyone, listen up!” A droll voice cut through the echo of shrieks and splashes as the younger age bracket began their cooldown laps. The swimmers snapped to attention. Coach Levi had a reputation for being a merciless, uncompromising hard-ass, but had a glittering trophy case and even a few Olympic medals to show for it.

“I’m not gonna mess around with time trials or any of that shit.”

Eren’s mouth fell open, and he snapped it shut before anyone could see. He’d never heard a teacher swear before, but the Coach kept on talking, completely unfazed despite the incredulous whispers that swept through the crowd.

_No time trials? He can’t be serious._

“Instead, we’re gonna jump right into practice, and if you can’t hack it, you’re out. If you wanna be on The Titans, you gotta work for it. Most of you will quit on your own before I have to cut you anyways. Newbies stay in the outer lanes, and for God’s sake pay attention to the people who know what the hell they’re doing.”

Despite his small stature, Levi still managed to look down his nose at the team. His flat, grey eyes reminded Eren uncomfortably of a shark’s.

“Well? The workout’s posted on the board. Get moving.”

There was a flurry of activity as people grabbed fins, kickboards and snorkels, jostling for the best placement in their lane.

“Wow, this is so… serious,” Armin muttered. “Not like with Coach Ral, right?” He laughed nervously.

“You can do this!” Eren protested, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “I remember how hard you worked the past few years. I don’t think anyone’s dropped as much time as you have. Right Mikasa?” He asked loudly as their friend passed, but she didn’t even look at him.

_Guess she’s already in the zone._

“Well um, I think I’ll go with lane eight just to be safe.” Armin knelt down by the starting blocks of the last lane to arrange his equipment. “You go on without me! I know you’ve got your pride to protect,” He teased as Eren opened his mouth to argue.

“Alright, see you after practice.”

Eren sauntered over to lane three, the closest he could get to the coveted center lanes without attracting the attention of the veterans. Connie had already made himself at home and gave Eren a wrist-shattering high-five in welcome.

“Titans or bust, amirite?”

“You bet!” Eren felt his limbs start to tingle with anticipation. He could still feel nerves jangling around in the back of his mind, but they’d faded to a mildly annoying white noise. Instead, there was a fire burning in his belly.

_I can do this._

He took a deep breath and adjusted the straps on his goggles to make sure they were _just right._ He was about to ask Connie of he wanted to rock-paper-scissors for who got to go first, but a lanky pair of legs suddenly blocked his view.  

“I was hoping you wouldn’t show up, but I guess a guy can’t have everything,” a voice sniffed.

_You’ve gotta be kidding me._

Connie glanced over at Eren with a giant shit-eating grin.

_Oh don’t you dare-_

“Hey Jean! You should be in our lane. It’ll be just like old times, yeah?”

* * *

 

Eren almost punched him.

Connie waggled his eyebrows in a very unapologetic manner, as Jean ran his hands through his stupid hair.

_Honestly, who dyes an undercut two different colors?_

“Nah man,” he drawled, his mesh equipment bag slung over his shoulder with deliberate jauntiness. “I’m gonna take lane two. Coach can see me better from there, and I can take the lead, no questions asked. Plus,” a sly grin crept over his face, “I’ll look extra good kicking Jaeger’s ass.”

Eren slapped the water as hard as he could, sending a cold spray showering over both Jean and Connie, who let out satisfying little yelps. He let the anger run through him, hot and eager.

_Feed the fire._  

“We’ll see about that! I’ve been training hard, not dicking around at Saint Pants-less.”

“It’s Saint _Frances_ ,” Jean huffed, stepping off the deck and into the water with a delicate hop. He emerged, shaking water off his head. “How old are you, twelve?”

“I could still beat you.”

The other boy rolled his eyes.

“That was beautiful,” Connie whispered in the ensuing lull, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “We’re going to have so much fun this year!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't noticed, this isn't a one-shot. Sorry for any confusion!

_“So I went for a tour of the high school, and their pool is awesome! And guess what? The middle school team even gets to use it,” Jean hooked his arm around the lane line, addressing a small but appreciative group of fifth grade girls in the next lane over. Eren could tell from the way his eyes kept darting back over his shoulder and the over-amplified volume of his voice, that he and Mikasa were the intended audience._

_“I guess I’ll miss this place,” Jean sighed with exaggerated nostalgia, “but Saint Francis has one of the best programs in the state. I expect I’ll be able to make much more out of my swimming career.”_

_Eren couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Does that mean you’ll stop crying every time you lose a race?”_

_The other boy’s ears turned scarlet._

_“I do not!”  
“Do too! I saw you last weekend after your hundred backstroke. You even had to get a tissue from your Mommy,” he spoke the last word with relish. _

_“At least mine still comes to see me swim,” Jean muttered with a small gleam of triumph in his eye. “I bet yours doesn’t want to see your stupid face anymore.”_

_A loud CRACK echoed through the pool as Eren hauled back and punched him right in the mouth. Jean gasped as fat drops of blood leaked through his fingers and into the water. Coach Ral immediately blew her whistle, signaling everyone to evacuate, and marched over with a grim expression._

_Mikasa, who had been watching the entire exchange expressionlessly, fixed Jean with her steely gaze._

_“She’s just been very tired lately, that’s all. Some days she sleeps through the meets.” She then put her palms flat on the deck and hoisted herself up and out of the pool in one fluid motion._

_“I’ll meet you at the front desk,” she said to Eren without turning around._

_“But first I’ll be seeing both of you in my office,” Coach Ral ordered, folding her arms sternly across her chest._

* * *

 

_Eren squirmed in the chair, rubbing his knuckles where he’s scraped them against Jean’s teeth. The other boy sat slouched beside him, clutching an ice pack to his split lip. He managed to glare ferociously at Eren before Coach Ral looked up from her paperwork._

_“Boys, I know you two don’t get along, but fighting in the middle of practice? What’s going on here?”_

_“He started it,” Jean snapped. “I was just minding my own business…”_

_“That’s not true!” Eren felt embarrassingly close to tears; his chest heaving with the effort of keeping his breathing steady._

_“Okay, okay,” Petra held her palms up in a placating gesture. “Jean could you step outside for a minute? Eren and I need to talk in private.”_

_With one last smug smile, he strutted out of the room._

_Silence descended. Eren stared resolutely at the floor, trying to count the faded grey and white tiles._

_“Areyougoingtokickmeofftheteam?” The words tumbled out in a rush. His cheeks burned and the corners of his eyes prickled, threatening to betray him._

_Petra sighed._

_“From what your father told me, it sounds like you’re going through a pretty tough time at home.”_

_“She’ll get better soon,” Eren mumbled around a throat that was rapidly closing. “Dad said he’d be able to look after her extra special since he’s a doctor but I don’t see how he can do that if he’s working all the time.” He clenched his fists tight against the sides of his thighs. “It’s like me and Mikasa are the only ones who care!”_

_Coach Ral stood from her desk and knelt down beside him._

_“I understand that you’re angry, and I agree that it’s not fair. But your mother is very strong, and I know that she’s going to fight as hard as she can for you. Do you think she’d be proud of the way you acted today?”_

_Eren sniffled and shook his head._

_“I’m not going to kick you off the team; however, there must be consequences for your actions. I want you to stay after practice and do an extra set every day for the next two weeks.”_

_The young boy looked at her wide-eyed, a slow grin spread over his blotchy face._

_“Th-thank you Coach!” he scrambled out of his chair, as if he was hoping to leave before she could change her mind. “I won’t let either of you down again, I promise.”_

* * *

 

Levi’s whistle blew mercilessly throughout the practice; a cruel reminder to the swimmers that the meager moments they had to catch their breath were now over as they plowed into the next set.

_I am going to die,_ Eren thought. _I will drown right here in this pool._

His arms had gone beyond sore and into numbness. He moved mechanically through the motions of each stroke, hoping only to keep moving forward. The relaxed grin had long since vanished from Connie’s face. However, his spirits had not been dampened enough to stop him from whispering “just keep swimming, just keep swimming,” in an annoying sing-song. Eren made a mental note to never, EVER let him watch Finding Nemo again.

He glanced enviously over at Mikasa, who was holding her own in lane five without any apparent effort. Ten minutes into practice and Levi had stopped everything to move her over to swim with the very best. Sure enough, Annie Leonhart was heading up the group; her petite body gliding through the water with crisp, precise strokes.

_I’ll get there too someday. Doesn’t matter if I have to work harder than everybody else._

Thomas had gotten out to “go to the bathroom” half an hour ago and hadn’t returned. From the looks of things, Mina wouldn’t be far behind him; every lap she fell a little bit further behind. She was barely making the intervals now, which meant no time to rest in between.

Unfortunately, Jean showed no signs of giving up. A small consolation was that he hadn’t managed to pull ahead. The two boys were still finishing at roughly the same time.

_I can use this. Dig deep, find a way to go just a little faster. Knock that dumb smirk of his face for good._

After two hours of chlorine-scented torture, Coach Levi gathered the remaining on deck.

“Even for Day One, that was pretty pathetic.”

_Are you kidding me?_ Eren glanced at the exhausted faces around him. Only the returners were rolling their eyes, as if they’d heard this speech a thousand times.

“I hope you all go home and think long and hard about if it’s even worth dragging your sorry asses to practice tomorrow. Dismissed.” His voice still managed to sound flat and colorless, despite the echo-y acoustics of the pool.

Eren lingered as the rest of the swimmers limped back towards the locker room, hoping the coach would maybe give him a piece of personal advice, judging from what he’d seen. He slowly bent down, pretending he was adjusting the straps on his equipment bag.

“Jaeger, right?”

_He remembered my name!_

“Yes, sir?”

Levi raised an eyebrow at the formality, but didn’t comment.

“Your technique is shit.”

And with that he turned, and strolled into his office, leaving Eren standing dumbstruck in his wake.


	3. Chapter 3

_The caseworker had neat blond hair that was parted fiercely to one side, so straight and even that it looked like he’d used a ruler.  His piercing blue eyes scanned the house as he silently made notes on a clipboard. His mother seemed nervous; her hands moving much more than usual, flitting from her hair to her throat to her waist and back again._

_“Well the house looks great!” He said finally, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiled, breaking his icy demeanor. “Clean, well-organized. You seem like dedicated parents. Do you mind if I talk to your son for a bit?”_

_Karla nodded. “Mind your manners, Eren,” she said mildly, but he could hear the warning in her tone._

_The caseworker ginned and squatted down to his level, holding out a hand._

_“Nice to meet you, Eren. My name’s Erwin.”_

_He nodded cautiously, and grasped his palm in a firm shake like he’d seen his father do when they had Important Guests over for dinner._

_“You like sweets?” He set aside his clipboard and a large manila folder full of files to reach into his pocket and retrieved a slightly linty hard candy._

_Eren eyed him with suspicion and shook his head._

_Erwin chuckled, popping the candy into his own mouth._

_“I see you’re a tough case to crack. Most kids warm up to me as soon as I bring the goodies out. Guess I’ll get to the point then; how do YOU feel about becoming a foster brother?”_

_Eren chewed his lip but didn’t respond._

_“It’s a pretty big change, huh?”_

_“It’s the right thing to do!”_

_He thought of solemn-faced newscasters, scenes bathed in flashing blue-and-red, waxy headshots with eyes closed. The corners of his father’s mouth drawn down into a tight line after a long day at work, hushed tales of children taken from their homes with bruised bodies. Alone in the giant hospital while nurses dressed their hurts and social workers scrambled to find them a place to go._

_“Some parents are evil people who treat their kids like dogs.”_

_Erwin nodded gravely._

_“You realize they might be sad or scared when they come to stay with your family? They might say hurtful things at first, and take up more of your parent’s attention.”_

_Eren returned his gaze to the floor, cheeks flushed from the passion of his earlier statement._

_“Yeah. But I can protect them. That’s what a brother’s supposed to do, right?”_

* * *

 

Eren’s arms felt limper than the spaghetti on his plate. His stomach growled fiercely, but reaching up to pick up a fork would require movement…

“If you bring your head down to your plate and start eating like an animal, I’ll smack you with a rolled up newspaper,” Mikasa stated calmly as she set down a bowl of salad on the table.

_Since when are you psychic?_

“But I’m hungry and my arms are sore!”

“I suppose I could feed you if you didn’t have the strength,” she deadpanned.

Eren rolled his eyes and stuffed a breadstick in his mouth. The golden-brown, garlicky crust yielded to a fluffy interior, and he sighed.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Mikasa loaded her plate with food, unimpressed.

“You say that after every practice.”

 As expected, they had returned to an empty house. The only sign Grisha Jaeger had been there at all was a barely legible note next to the front door. Called away on another emergency, no doubt. Eren hadn’t bothered to read it. His reasons didn’t matter anymore.

“So how’d you do?”

Eren stabbed at a rouge lettuce leaf, the carbohydrate high dissipating as his sour mood returned.

“I thought we talked about that in the car already.”

“I still don’t think Coach wants you to quit.”

“He said my technique was shitty!”

Mikasa pushed her bangs off her forehead, so she could face him more directly. “Well, you do tend to plow through the water. I bet if you cleaned up your stroke, you’d be a lot faster.”

“That’s easy for you to say, _Miss Perfect_. How’s life in the fast lane?” Eren snarled. He knew he was being unfair; in fact, she was right, but that only served to make him angrier.

“It’s fine,” Mikasa replied coolly. “Annie’s a great swimmer. I think I can learn a lot from her.”

“I wasn’t actually interested.”

“I don’t think you should take your frustrations out on me.”

“I’m not, okay! God, not everything’s about you.” Eren swiped his plate off the table and dumped in in the sink with a loud clatter. Mikasa watched with her impassive, infuriating calm. He knew he was being childish, but he stomped off to his room nonetheless.

The bag with all his wet equipment inside was lying haphazardly on his unmade bed, where he’d thrown it in his rush to the dinner table. His phone rested next to it, blinking impatiently.

With a muffled curse, Eren shoved the damp sack onto the floor with one hand and woke up his phone with the other.

Armin: I think I died and went to hell.

Armin: I’m never moving my arms ever again.

Armin: Oh god how am I going to get dressed tomorrow?!

Armin: Even texting is hard.

Eren debated whether or not to respond. He wasn’t sure if he was really in the mood to think about swimming anymore.

Eren: sry i was eating.

Armin: wow you can lift a fork. good 4 u.

Eren couldn’t help but grin a little. Armin’s texts were usually full sentences with correct grammar and punctuation, but apparently that took too much effort as well.

Eren: Mikasa said she’d hit me

Eren: bc of course she gets to play house all the time when dads not home

Eren: she’s not even my real sister.

Armin: What happened between you two? Did you guys have a fight? Do you want me to come over?

Eren: nah 4get it

No sooner had he put his phone aside to deal with the soggy towel and trunks that were bringing his duffel ever closer to being a full-on petri dish of mold, then the raucous tune of The Hokey Pokey blared out.

He’d forgotten Connie had switched Armin’s ringtone at last year's end-of-season party. Apparently he thought the whole “arm in, arm out” thing was funny.

“Aaaand you turn yourself around. That’s what it’s all-”

“Hey Armin, look I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Too bad.” Was his friend’s clipped reply. “C’mon, SOMETHING pretty serious must be bothering you,” his tone softened “You guys hardly ever argue.”

“I just hate it when she acts so cool, ya know? Nothing ever pisses her off. She just sits there and doesn’t blink a goddamn eyelash. Makes me look like an idiot for getting mad,” he muttered.

“Mhmm,” He could almost see Armin nodding his head sensibly at the other end of the line. “So were you mad at her specifically, or were you frustrated with something else?”

“Oh God,” Eren groaned, rubbing his temple. “I forgot you’re just as bad. So level-headed and sensible. It sucks.”

Armin laughed, but didn’t say any more as he waited for a response.

“I dunno, what Coach said about my technique ‘n stuff.”

“I thought that might be it!”

“Don’t sound so excited, asswipe. I think he wants me to quit.”

Armin blew out a loud breath into the phone, creating a rush of static.

“Well are you going to?”

“What, quit? Hell no! They’ll have to drag my cold, dead, body out of the water before that happens.”

“Then stick with it until you improve,” Armin said simply. “It sounded like Levi wanted us to weed ourselves out first before he made any cuts. Show him that you’re better than the first impression!” A pause. “Uhh look I hate to be the one to call you and then ditch, but I really am beat and I still have to work on the final paper for that college class I’m taking over the summer….”

“No problem, man. Thanks for the advice.”

  _I’ll prove Coach wrong all right. Him and Jean both,_ Eren promised silently after hanging up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying the fic so far! The social worker was originally going to be Hanji, not Erwin, but I realized I had bigger plans for them hehe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bisexual Jean and non-binary Hanji are so important to me. 
> 
> Also, I've tried my best to explain any swimming/diving terms I use but if it's still not clear or I've forgotten something don't hesitate to ask!

The next day was business as usual. Mikasa mentioned nothing about their tussle over breakfast, for which Eren was extremely grateful. He hated apologizing about as much as he hated feeling like an ass; a character trait that had not exactly won him many friends over the years. Instead he did her laundry; even making sure to separate out the white clothes, and folding everything neatly before placing it in the hamper.

 He knew he was forgiven when she came out of her room with her favorite red scarf wrapped tightly around her neck.

“I don’t care if it’s hot out. It smells nice.”

Unfortunately, the next day at practice didn’t go any better. Levi was even crankier because diving had started up and was thus limiting the swimmers’ lane usage.

“I don’t see why you can’t practice at another time. Or why you need to take up two whole lanes for falling in the water,” he grumbled at their coach, Hanji.

“Aww cheer up, Grumpuss. I know you’d miss my shining face every morning!” They reached over and pinched his cheek. For a moment Eren thought he was about to witness murder firsthand, but Levi just scowled and slapped their hand away, muttering something about “lost brain cells from landing on your head”.

Eren, on the other hand, was not so easily swayed. The shortage of space meant that he and Jean were now forced to share a lane, though he and Connie were too busy trying to get a peek at the divers to notice the predicament.

“Alright ladies,” Hanji clasped their hands together, swiveling to address the two girls lounging next the one-meter board, “We’re gonna start with some lineups to get you guys back into the swing of things, but then I want to see you flinging yourselves off three-meter like a lover jumping off a cliff!”

“Hell yeah!”

Instead of running screaming for the locker room, like any sane person would, the gangly brunette punched the air with enthusiasm.

“That’s my girl, Sasha!” Connie called gleefully, giving her a thumbs up.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend!” Eren exclaimed.

“Yeah, well um it’s pretty recent. We met here over the summer actually, when we were both training for this season.”  

“Good for you,” he murmured, trying to keep any trace of jealousy out of his voice. Eren glanced over at Sasha’s counterpart, a tiny blond girl with huge blue eyes who was busy adjusting the boards.

“Forget about it,” Connie said, following Eren’s thought process. “Not only is Krista gay, but her girlfriend is Ymir. So she’d kill you in a heartbeat.”

Eren shuddered and glanced quickly at the well-muscled girl with a smattering of freckles and a permanent scowl a few lanes over. She hadn’t noticed.

“Hey, is that Marco guy still on the team?” Jean cut in, squinting over Connie’s head for a better view.

“Nah, he graduated last year.”

“Why, do you liiiike him?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jaeger.”

Eren grinned and pushed further.   
“It’d make sense, actually. After all, you only ever fall for people you never have a chance with. Like Mika-”

He was silenced as Jean firmly grasped his hair and shoved his head underwater.

Levi’s whistle pierced the air, interrupting their struggle.  

“Okay maggots, we’re doing a drop-out set. That means you swim 100s until you drop dead or miss the interval. When that happens, you get out of the pool and watch your stronger teammates until nobody’s left. Three people have quit since yesterday’s practice. I’m hoping to double that number today.”

_Maybe being a diver wouldn’t be so bad after all…_

This idea was quickly discarded as a giant splash erupted next to him.

“YAHOOO! Excellent smack!” Hanji crowed as Sasha rose to the surface. Her back was the color of a fresh sunburn.

“Next time, open up a teensy bit earlier, and don’t tuck your head, okay?”

Sasha mumbled something unintelligible as she floated over to the side of the pool.

“Ignore the damn divers!” Levi barked. Half the heads in the pool, who must’ve been thinking the same thing as Eren, swiveled guiltily back around to face him.

“Get ready, we’re going on my mark…”

“Hey Coach!” Jean called. “Who do you think should lead lane three, me or Jaeger?” He smirked cockily at Eren.

“Connie.” Levi muttered, without missing a beat. “And if you interrupt me again, I swear to God I’ll shove your goggles down your throat.”

* * *

 

 The 100 meter freestyle was one of Eren’s favorite events. Four laps of the pool, no-holds-barred sprinting. After swimming it over and over again on an ever-shrinking interval, he was starting to reconsider.

_I will not drop out before Jean, I will not drop out before Jean, I will not-_

Three strokes, breathe. See the cross on the bottom of the pool, tuck head, flip, kick, breathe. Touch the wall. Safe for the ten seconds before the next round starts. About half the team was on the pool deck by now, crowded together for warmth. Armin was among them, his lips slightly blue.

He’d been one of the first ones out, which wasn’t entirely a surprise. Armin was a very psychological swimmer, which was why he excelled so much in distance. He knew how to swim against his opponent, adjusting his pace accordingly to tire them out or get too confident so he could swoop in and win at the end. In practice however, he tended to get intimidated by the faster swimmers, and had difficulty finding the right pace. That and he wasn’t very good at sprints.

Push off the wall, kick, three strokes, breathe. Jean’s feet still churned the water ahead of him.

_Keep holding on. You want this more than he does, right? He’s just a selfish dick who wants bragging rights and college scholarships._

Halfway there. Eren’s foot was starting to cramp.

_Maybe you can beat Mikasa too! Hell, this set isn’t about technique, or even speed. It’s about who can push through the pain the longest. And if there’s one thing I’m good at…_

He reached out and touched rough concrete. Finished!

“Kirstein, Jaeger, out.” Levi announced dispassionately.

Eren looked at the clock. Two seconds too slow.

_Damn._

With a grunt, he hauled himself out of the water, skin prickling at the unwelcome contact with cold air. He couldn’t muster up the energy to be disappointed in himself.

  _Technically, I didn’t get out before Jean…_

Bertolt was still going strong, cleaving the water with his massive arm span. Mikasa, of course, showed no sign of slowing down, but it was Annie who was leading the pack. Eren watched in awe as she reached the wall effortlessly, with plenty of time left before the next set to catch her breath.

_How does she do that? She doesn’t even look tired- she looks BORED._

As the whistle blasted and the remaining swimmers kicked off once more, Eren scrutinized her strokes. Not a movement was wasted; her entire being was dedicated to propelling her through the water as swiftly and as cleanly as possible. When the torturous exercise was finally over (Mikasa shooting daggers at Annie after she finally missed the interval), Eren knew what he had to do.

He let Jean mosey over to Mikasa and try to stammer out a compliment that would fall on nearly deaf ears, while he tried to intercept Annie before she got to the locker room.

“Hey. You swam really well.”

Annie turned to look at him with one eyebrow raised up so high it almost touched her swim cap.

_Wow Eren, you sound almost as smooth as Horse Face._

“I was wondering if, uhh,”

“Not interested,” She stated flatly. “I don’t date freshmen.”

“I’m actually a sophomore- but that’s not the point!” he yelped hurriedly as she rolled her eyes and took another step towards the door.

“I was hoping you could show me some technique stuff. Coach said mine wasn’t very good.”

Annie hesitated, one foot hovering in the air. Finally she put it down and sighed, looking him in the eye for the first time.

“Alright fine. We can meet here on Saturday afternoons, though that’ll have to change once school starts cuz I’m president of the Judo club and that’s when we meet.” 

“Sounds great!”

Eren resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at Jean as he passed. Instead he enjoyed the look of puzzlement that crossed his face as Eren wrote down her number on the back of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate every comment and kudos <3
> 
> Find me on tumblr: stopblowingholesinmeship


	5. Chapter 5

“You did not manage to get private swim lessons from Annie Leonhart.”

“Connie, if you let your mouth hang open like that, you’ll start catching flies.”

“Dude, she must be totally into you!”

Eren laughed and shook his head.

“Nah, trust me, when I first asked she looked at me like I was a piece of gum stuck to her shoe.”

He, Armin, Mikasa, Connie, and Sasha were sitting around the picnic table in Connie’s backyard. The evening air was warm and muggy, carrying the faint scent of the pizza they had recently devoured.

Mikasa frowned, picking at a leftover piece of crust.

“I think you guys are blowing it out of proportion.”

“Are you serious?” The gravity in Connie’s voice was belied by the fact that he’d stuck two straws underneath his upper lip to make fangs. “That chick is ice cold! I don’t think I’ve ever seen her _smile_ let alone take somebody under her wing.”

She shrugged. “Annie seems nice enough to me.”

“Err maybe we all just need to get to know her better,” Armin cut in before Connie could open his mouth with an incredulous response.

“Well it looks like Eren will definitely _know her better_ by the end of the season, if ya know what I mean,” Sasha grinned, jabbing Eren in the side with her elbow.

“Can we please talk about something else?” An uncharacteristic flash of annoyance flickered across Mikasa’s face.

Armin immediately launched into a discussion of his latest dilemma regarding the number of AP credits the school would physically allow him to take, but Eren couldn’t focus.

_What would it be like to date Annie?_

He tried to picture her delicate fingers reaching out to correct him; adjusting his elbow or brushing across his shoulders, maybe walking across the parking lot in the setting sun with their hands entwined.

But all he could seem to focus on was her stone-faced expression that made his stomach curdle, not with infatuation, but fear.

_Sure I admire her as a swimmer, and I can’t deny that she’s beautiful; though in a strange and terrifying way. But that’s different, right?_

The sting of a water balloon bursting across his face interrupted his musings. Connie whooped and scampered around the side of the house, another projectile clutched in his fist. Eren gave chase as he tore of his damp t-shirt, rolling into a whip. Sasha lunged out and grabbed his ankles, which sent them both crashing to the ground. He scrambled around to put her in a headlock, but Connie sat on his back. They might have stayed forever locked in endless combat had Armin not arrived with the hose.

They lay in a heap; breathless with laughter and soaked to the bone, desperately clinging to the last few days of summer before school intruded. Even Mikasa was smiling, though her grey eyes were foggy; clouded by an emotion that Eren couldn’t begin to unravel.

* * *

 

By Saturday, Eren was beginning to regret his decision to ask Annie for help. Not only did the entire swim team know at the next practice, but each variation of the story seemed to involve some sort of romantic gesture; from subtle flirtation, to a steamy make-out session on deck. It didn’t help that Connie waggled his eyebrows lecherously whenever they were within five feet of each other.

Even Jean’s spluttering disbelief and poorly concealed jealousy wore off, giving way to snide comments about Eren’s previous dating history (non-existent), his hair (constantly tangled and smelling of chlorine), and overall talent in the pool.

“I’ll give them a week together, max. Anyone else wanna bet?”

“That’s a great idea! Let’s wager on when you and Mikasa start dating. I’m putting my money on _never_ ,” he snapped, though this did nothing to dispel the rumors.

Annie, on the other hand, appeared completely unfazed. Eren wasn’t sure if she was very selectively deaf or if everyone was too terrified to let the stories reach her ears. He suspected the latter, judging by the hush that fell whenever she walked by with only the barest flick of her eyes to acknowledge people were watching her.

If Levi hadn’t announced that he’d begin drawing up the roster for the first meet over the next few weeks, Eren might have called the whole thing off.

So he found himself on deck Saturday, the turkey sandwich he’d eaten for lunch swirling nervously in his gut.

_Where is she? Maybe she decided not to show after all..._

“Swim a lap. I want to see what I’ve got to work with.”

Eren jumped at the sound Annie’s voice behind him.

_Is she a freaking ninja? I didn’t even hear the door to the locker room close!_

“Uh, yeah good idea,” he stumbled towards the starting blocks, painfully aware he was giving off the goofy, love-struck impression he was desperately trying to avoid.

When he touched the wall at the other end of the pool, Annie was shaking her head.

“Levi was right. You don’t swim, you fight the water.”

“Isn’t that how you go faster?”

She rolled her eyes heavenwards, as if searching for invisible guidance.

“No. The entire point is to streamline yourself. Blend in with the water so that if flows around you, not against you. Watch.”

Annie dove in effortlessly, keeping her hands clasped tightly over her bowed head as she dolphin-kicked down the lane. When she finally broke the surface, she kept her elbow angled higher, rather than immediately smashing her hand down into the water. Her entire body rotated sideways as one arm reached forward, then twisted back as she repeated the motion on the other side, pulling the water with one smooth movement.

“Wow that was… perfect. My stroke looks nothing like that,” Eren admitted grudgingly.

_Mikasa was right, as usual._

Annie shrugged.

“I’ve been swimming practically since I could walk, so it’s all second nature to me now. My dad wanted me to start early…” Her eyes flickered with something like uncertainty. 

_No wonder she’s such a powerhouse._

“Do you swim for him?”

“What?!”

Eren recoiled slightly as he saw her hands clench into fists.

“Like, you want to make him proud right? Does he inspire you?”

“I guess you could say that.” Her shoulders relaxed. “Why do you ask? That’s kind of a weird question.”

“Umm just curious, really.” Eren ran his finger across the surface of the water in idle shapes, suddenly aware of the personal direction the conversation had taken. He cleared his throat.

 “My mom died a three years ago. She used to love coming to all my meets and everything. Mikasa’s too.”

Annie nodded, but didn’t press the issue. Instead she cracked her knuckles.  

“Alright that’s enough stalling. Now you try.”

An hour later, Eren emerged from the locker room; frustrated, but with a brief glimmer of hope that he was improving. Mikasa was already waiting for him in the van, her lips pursed in a tight frown.

_I really should take my road test one of these days…_

“How’d it go?”

“Well-”

“She wasn’t mean to you was she?” Mikasa cut her eyes at Annie’s petite figure as she emerged from the building. The blonde waved vaguely in the direction of the van before bending down to undo the chain tethering a bright blue bike to one of the handicapped parking signs.

“If I said ‘yes’, would you arrange for her to die in a mysterious swimming-related accident?”

Mikasa huffed.

“Of course not!”

A pause.

“That would be far too obvious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may not respond to every comment individually at the risk of sounding repetitive, but I read EACH and EVERY one. Thank you all so much!!   
> And a have a very Merry Christmas, if that's your thing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's like reaching out a hand to a strange dog. Either we become friends or she'll bite me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I MIGHT be a bit biased, but I'm rather partial to this chapter.   
> ~bonding~

_“Eren, can I talk to you a minute?”_

_“Right now, Dad? I’m in the middle of a battle,” he gestured towards the TV screen._

_Grisha sat down on the couch next to him. He still smelled faintly like the hospital; rubber, disinfectant, and underneath it all, a tiny whiff of shit._

_“It’s about your mother.”_

_Eren’s heart did a funny, jittering dance in his chest._

_“Can she come home yet? Mikasa said she was gonna try baking a cake for my thirteenth birthday. I bet Mom’d wanna be there to make sure she doesn’t burn the house down.”_

_His father’s face remained impassive. If anything, the crow’s feet around his eyes only deepened._

_“She wants to, but-”_

_“That’s great! You can convince the doctors to let her out, right? I’m sure she’ll get better much faster at home. She always tells me how much she misses the light coming in through her window in the morning…” He trailed off as he realized he was babbling._

_The voice that responded sounded like a hundred year-old corpse, rather than his father. It seemed to emanate from somewhere deeper than his mouth; solemn, heavy, and cracked with dust._

_“Your mother wants to stop treatment. She isn’t going to get better, Eren. But she’d prefer to be here, with you two, when she-”_

_“DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT!” He was standing now, hot and cold pulsing through his body in waves._

_The last time he’d visited, Karla’s hands were white and brittle as paper, stroking his cheek. Her eyes were dull from chemo, with bags dark as bruises underneath, but she smiled all the same. Told him to be strong._

_“HOW CAN YOU JUST GIVE UP ON HER?”_

_“Listen, we just want to do what’s best-”_

_“THEN YOU DON’T LOVE HER LIKE I DO.” Eren screamed, his throat burning raw with tears. He ran; out the door, down the block, trying to outpace the quivering, sick feeling in his stomach. He didn’t stop until his knees gave out, long after dark._

_He lay in the strip of balding grass next to the sidewalk, staring up at the inky sky. He wanted to reach out and tear it down, pluck out the stars as if they were the tumors growing inside his mother’s body._

_The soft whirr of tires caught Eren’s attention half a second before the piercing beam of a flashlight swept across his face. Wordlessly, Mikasa climbed off her bicycle and knelt down next to him in the dirt._

_“It’s time to come home,” She murmured, wrapping an arm around his back to help him stand._

* * *

 

Eren’s heart froze at the sight of a sleek, black Cadillac parked in their driveway.  He had his seatbelt undone before the van even came to a stop, dodging around the restraining hand reaching for his shoulder as he popped the door open and hit the ground running.

“Eren don’t-” Mikasa called after him, but she might had well have been talking to a post.

He barged in through the front, kicking his shoes aside carelessly as he strode into the living room.

“I’m home! If anyone cares.”

His father peered at him over the top of a book.

“Nice to see you, Eren,” He said mildly. The same calm, unaffected voice Mikasa used that made his blood boil.

“I didn’t know if you guys had eaten lunch yet, but I’m making lasagna for dinner.”

“I’m eating at Armin’s,” Eren grunted. He fingered the phone in his pocket and made a mental note to inform his friend of this plan. “I figured you wouldn’t be home again.”

“Oh that’s too bad.”

“Yeah, you sound real broken up about it,” he muttered sarcastically.

“What do you expect me to say?” Grisha’s eyes flashed behind his glasses. His voice remained clam but there was a tension growing behind it. 

_Maybe I don’t want you to say anything. Maybe I just want you to be here more than once in a blue moon._

Eren clenched his fists, but the soft _click_ of a closing door and Mikasa’s pointed throat-clearing stopped his angry retort.  

“How was work today?”

_I wish you didn’t act like nothing was wrong._

He shut out the banal chatter, using it as a cover to slink down the hall. Once he reached the safety of his bedroom, he whipped out his phone.

Eren: yo armin you got anything good cooking for dinner?

Eren: dad’s here

Armin: Shit umm, my Grandpa’s got his bridge group over actually.

Armin: Let me see what I can do…

Armin: Worst comes to worst I’ll sneak over with a pizza, okay?

_Always looking after my sorry ass, eh?_

Eren: don’t worry about it. Remember wat happened last time?

Armin: I wonder if Bruno just REALLY hates pepperoni…

He smiled at the memory of Armin, white-faced and clutching a greasy box, being chased around the yard by their neighbor’s dog.

Armin: But seriously, let me know if you need anything.

Eren thanked him before setting down the phone; pacing back and forth across his room as if wearing a groove in the floor could solve his predicament any faster.

_Mikasa’s too busy sucking up.  Connie’s probably making out with Sasha somewhere, and even if he was free, I don’t feel up for dumb jokes or noogies._

Jean’s face briefly crossed his mind but he quickly quashed it.

_How would that POSSIBLY make anything better? Besides I don’t even think I have his number._

But Eren realized that he _did_ have Annie’s.

His fingers hesitated over the keys for a moment, as he tried to think of a way to phrase his question in a way that didn’t sound too desperate and needy.

Eren: hey are you free to hang out? i know we just saw each other but I need to get out of the house.

"My dad’s an asshole," he added after further thought. 

He half-expected her not to respond at all, so Eren was shocked when his phone buzzed in his hand almost immediately.

Annie: Gimme your address and I’ll be there in ten.

* * *

 

Eren decided to wait on the curb, away from the thick scent of tomato sauce and melted cheese that was beginning to permeate the house. He saw Mikasa watching him from the window, the corners of her mouth pulled down and her brow drawn in a straight line low across her forehead, but she made no move to bring him inside.

She vanished seven minutes later, when Annie rolled up on her bicycle.

“Hop on the front,” she explained in response to Eren’s raised eyebrow.

He gingerly settled himself on the handlebars, for once in his life grateful for his small frame. Annie was staring back at the house with an odd, scrutinizing expression.

“Is Mikasa alright?”

“Uh, yeah.” _Probably having a grand old time actually. Talking about how she’s in lane five, and planning what colleges she wants to go to._ “Can we get out of here? I told my Dad I was going to Armin’s.”

Annie pushed off and began pedaling easily, despite the extra weight. Eren wondered how she could see around him well enough to steer, but decided it best not to ask.

They rode in uneasy silence for several blocks, until she pulled over with a squeal of tires in front of a cramped café located in a dingy plaza away from Sina’s main shopping center.

“Bertholt works here. He had a crush on me in middle school, so I can probably score us free coffee. They’ve got sandwiches and stuff too, if you want.” She scuffed the toe of her shoe along a crack in the sidewalk.

“Uh,” Eren glanced surreptitiously at the pizza place across the street. Bertholt seemed like a nice guy; never complaining or badmouthing anyone, but he couldn’t be sure how the quiet behemoth would interpret this outing with all the rumors flying around.

But Annie was already pushing open the door, decorated with a hand-drawn smiley face that said “Welcome” in large block letters. He followed her in with an irritated sigh, slouching his shoulders as much as possible to convey to everyone in the shop that he had no choice in the matter.

Fortunately Annie was not one for small talk, and within moments they were back outside with their orders; delayed only by haggling over the coffees.

“So,” Annie sat down heavily on the curb, brushing a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes, “What’s going on with your Dad?”

Eren took a moody sip of his drink.

“It’s complicated,” he finally grumbled. “We just fight about everything, even stupid stuff. And I know that most of the time I start it, but I can’t look him in the eye without getting angry. Every little thing he says or does…” His cup stared to crumple in his fist, spilling hot drops onto his fingers. “Basically I just don’t wanna be around him anymore.”

He waited for Annie to say something, but she only nodded and stole one of his French fries. Her expression remained as unruffled as a lake on a calm day.

“That sucks.”

“Yeah…”

“Seriously. I know how you feel. Sort of.” Annie stopped chewing and drew her knees up to her chest. “My Dad puts a lot of pressure on me to do well. It’s only the two of us and he works really hard to give me a bright future or whatever, so I can understand but… Sometimes there’s all this _tension_ you know? Like, everything has to be a certain way or else one of us’ll explode.”

Eren watched her warily out of the corner of his eye, unsure how to handle the new, exposed, Annie Leonhart.

_It’s like reaching out a hand out to a strange dog. Either we’ll become friends or she’ll bite me._

Quick as a flash, Annie snatched another fry.

“Hey if you wanted some you should have ordered them!” He yelped indignantly.

“Watch this.” She saved the last bite and threw it in a graceful arc into the center of the parking lot.

“So what, now you’re just going to waste-”

Her hand clamped firmly down over his mouth. A minute later, a flock of pigeons descended, flapping wildly and coo-ing with excitement. They stared at each other like cowboys in a Wild West showdown, circling the morsel with quick, bobbing steps.

In spite of himself, Eren chuckled through Annie’s fingers. She released him and he grabbed another fry to lob into the growing throng of birds. They watched the ensuing frenzy in silence for a while before Annie dug her elbow into his side and stood up to get her bike. 

Eren mumbled a thank-you in the driveway, eyeing the house that sat dark and shuttered like a sleeping dragon.

“Don’t let the man get you down,” Annie smirked; punching him in the shoulder as she pedaled off.

He half-expected Grisha to be waiting for him, peering disappointedly over his spectacles, but all that remained of his presence was a cold pan of lasagna and a note that read: _Called in again- be back in a few hours. Wash dishes in sink._

Mikasa had already done her part- half the silverware was stacked neatly in the drying rack. From the way her bedroom door had clicked shut the minute he’d stepped into the house, he figured she was studiously avoiding him for the time being.

  _I don’t mean to pick fights with Dad and I know that makes you really upset, but we can’t just “get along” anymore._

Eren picked up a cup; felt the smooth ceramic surface, trying to decide whether to submerge it in soapy water or fling it against the wall.

_“I know how you feel”._

Annie hadn’t offered anything other than her stolid, cynical presence, but somehow  that was enough. He picked up the dishrag with a sigh.

_No use in making an even bigger mess._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Because every self-respecting AU needs a beach chapter!)

The last day of summer vacation was a sacred time; which was why Eren found himself awake at the ungodly hour of eight in the morning, digging frantically through his drawers for a pair of swim trunks.

“Why don’t you just wear one of your practice suits?” Mikasa called from the living room, where she was keeping an eye out for their ride, which was due to arrive any minute.

“I’m not bringing a Speedo to the beach- I’ll look like a total tool!” Eren snapped back. He gave a cry of triumph as he found a pair of knee-length “board shorts”.

“It’s the same with girls,” he continued his argument as he strolled down the hall, “You guys all wear bikinis and shit, not-” Eren stopped when he noticed Mikasa was in fact sporting her habitual black one piece.

Fortunately, the raspy blare of Connie’s horn saved him from any further damage.  The aging monstrosity of a van, dubiously called “Trusty Rusty” by its owner, sat in their driveway in all its peeling grey glory like a beached whale.

Sasha waved excitedly from the passenger’s seat. Pink heart-shaped sunglasses perched on top of her head, and she had what looked to be a giant inflatable shark squished between her legs. Surfin’ Safari was blasting from the speakers, which she promptly turned up in honor of their arrival.

“Grab a seat!” Connie hollered over the din. “You guys were the last stop, so don’t complain about the options.”

Eren slid the side door open carefully, prepared for the inevitable avalanche of empty takeout containers. With a flash of irritation, he noticed Jean settled into one of the bucket seats in the first row. Armin was buckled into the other, an apologetic smile on his face.

“You two are really gonna have to squish in the back…”

_Wait aren’t there three seats?_

To his surprise, he saw Annie curled up cat-like next to the window. Eren squeezed his way past the two boys, making sure to stick his butt extra close to Jean’s face. He took the remaining window seat with a triumphant grin at Mikasa, who rolled her eyes and folded herself into the middle.

Connie cupped his hand in front of his mouth, grasping an imaginary radio. “This is your pilot speaking. Today is going to be sunny with a 100% chance of awesome. Are you suckers ready to end the summer with a bang?”

“LET’S GO SURFIN’ NOW, EVERYBODY’S LEARNIN’ HOW, COME ON A SAFARI WITH MEEEEE,” Sasha belted.

“You said it, babe.”

And with a cough of Trusty Rusty’s engine, they were off.

 

* * *

 

After two hours of listening to the Beach Boys played at an earsplitting decibel level, Eren was beginning to regret the decision to leave Sasha in charge of both the playlist and volume control.

He tried to get Armin’s attention, but that soon degraded into screaming “WHAT DID YOU SAY?” back and forth, until they gave up. Mikasa and Annie were closer, but somehow locked in their own private conversation.

_They must be telepathic because I’m pretty sure I went deaf thirty miles ago._

Which meant resorting to annoying Jean for entertainment. Fortunately he was seated right in front of Eren, his vulnerable undercut exposed.

_Start slow…_

Fortunately there was plenty of random trash within reach for Eren to choose from. He selected a sheet of what looked like math homework from two years ago, and began rolling strips of it into little balls. 

He flicked one with his thumb and forefinger, sending it bouncing off Jean’s ear. Armin turned around to shoot him a warning glare, but Eren’s intended target didn’t appear to notice.

_The neck this time._

The paper missile pinged perfectly against the bare skin right below his hairline. Jean reached back to scratch at the spot.

Frustrated with the lack of response, Eren swiped his tongue along his pointer, ensuring that it was well-moistened before jamming it directly into Jean’s ear.

The piercing scream that followed drowned out the music entirely, and caused Connie to slam on the brakes.

“WHAT THE HELL, JEAGER?!” Jean roared, contorting his upper body in a vain attempt to grab him. Eren ducked sideways, slamming into Mikasa, who let out a disproving huff.

“Yo do you wanna walk to the beach?” Connie called from the driver’s seat. “Trusty Rusty’s under enough strain without you two assfaces jumping around in the back.”

The two sparring boys both muttered their dissent, Jean shooting Eren a look of pure loathing.

”God, you really are like a twelve year old. Don’t think I’m gonna let this slide.”

Eren reached up and pointedly scratched his nose with his middle finger. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Armin bury his head in his hands.

 

* * *

 

It was low tide when they arrived; the waves making small, frothy peaks as they broke gently across the shore. A mild breeze blew in from the ocean, smelling of salt with an unmistakable fishy tang.

“We’ve lived to tell the tale, me hearties. The glorious beaches lie before us, ripe with wenches and treasure!”  Connie gave Trusty Rusty’s steering wheel a comforting pat.

“Aye, avast!” Sasha chirped, shoving the massive inflatable shark out the open window so she was free to retrieve a picnic basket crammed under her seat.

Eren leapt over the backseat and into the trunk space before Jean, now unencumbered by a seatbelt, had a chance to seize him. He was rewarded with more muffled cursing and a stammered apology from Jean as he accidentally fixed Mikasa with his most murderous glare.

The trunk popped open and Armin’s head materialized against a brilliant blue sky. His cheeks and nose were streaked white from a liberal application of sunscreen. A battered, wide-brimmed straw hat sat perched atop his blond hair, giving him the appearance of a baby-faced fisherman.

“I’d get a move on if I were you. As soon as Jean’s finished being embarrassed, he’s gonna shove your head in the sand, or worse. Also, you’re sitting on the umbrella.”

Eren took off across the sand, tossing his shirt and shoes behind him as he ran. The wind sang in his ears, reducing the hoots and cheers of his friends to an indistinguishable white noise.

The sand between his toes brought back memories of hot summer days, sticky ice cream, and muggy nights at the boardwalk with his mother laughing as his father tried to win her a stuffed teddy bear. Then his shins hit the ocean spray- a fierce, refreshing tingle and he fell forward, embracing the water with a bellyflop.

When he surfaced, Connie’s grinning face was inches from his.

“Wait! Connie don’t-”

His plea was drowned by an enormous splash of salty water, as Connie jumped on his shoulders.

“I’ve got ‘im Jean, get your ass over here!”

Tan limbs bucked and flailed, but the smaller boy clung on like a monkey as Jean strolled through the surf, his mouth twisted into a predatory leer.

“If you wanna fight like a fifth grader, I am so not above stooping to your level,” he jeered, a hand shooting out towards Eren’s chest.

_Oh God no._

“Purple nurple!” Connie crowed, as Eren let out an undignified shriek.

Jean only pinched harder, finishing off with a vicious twist.  

“Give me another wet willy and I’ll cut ‘em off next time,” he muttered darkly.

Through the haze of pain emanating from his pectoral region, Eren swung his leg forward in a weak attempt to kick the other boy in the crotch. Before the fighting could escalate any further, Connie spotted Sasha waving from the beach.

“Forget revenge, it’s lunchtime!”

 

* * *

 

_Ok, so Sasha has terrible taste in playlists but I can totally forgive her,_ Eren thought as he surveyed the magnificent spread set out on a red-and-white checkered cloth.

Thick loaves of brown bread, spread liberally with butter, waited to be topped with lettuce and a fine assortment of cold cuts. Watermelon, cheese, ice cream sandwiches, and at least three different kinds of potato chips rounded out the meal.

Even Jean seemed impressed, though it was hard to tell because he’d slipped on a pair of giant, douche-y sunglasses.

Balancing a loaded plate in one hand, Eren searched for a place to sit among the sprawled limbs of his friends. He headed instinctively towards Mikasa before realizing that she and Annie were still deep in conversation, their heads bent so close together that their noses almost touched. Neither girl looked up to acknowledge him; not even after he accidentally put his foot in Sasha’s cup, eliciting a small screech from her.

Feeling snubbed, he turned to Armin, who had settled into the only beach chair anyone had thought to bring. He clutched a massive tome that no one but Armin would consider a “beach read”, periodically glancing up to check that he was still under the massive shadow of the umbrella.

“No food?” He asked, popping a chip in his mouth with a satisfying _crunch_.

Armin made a face. “It always gets all sandy, no matter how careful I am. Also, I have this like, traumatic memory of seagulls chasing me down to get my bag of pretzels when I was five.”

Eren laughed. “Was that the day your grandfather took us all together?”

“That’s right!” His friend’s blue eyes widened in betrayal. “He was trying to stop you and Mikasa from paddling the blow-up raft out to sea, leaving me at the mercy of the birds.”

“Hehe, you cried for like, an hour after.”

“Seagulls are scary! You haven’t faced down a flock of them when they’re all staring at you with murder in their eyes.”

“Hey Mikasa,” Eren called, “What would YOU do if you were surrounded by a group of bloodthirsty birds?”

“C’mon that’s not fair!” Armin protested.

Instead of her usual dry response, Mikasa merely shrugged her shoulders and got up to re-fill her place.

“It’s okay for her to have other friends, too,” Armin murmured quietly, noticing Eren’s clenched fist. But his voice held a breath of sadness; of the three of them, Mikasa had always been their rock.

_Even when everything went to hell after mom died, she was always so calm. She made sure there were groceries in the fridge, that Dad came home to sleep every once in a while, that I kept my grades up so I wouldn’t lose my spot on the team…_

He snorted in response. “I don’t see what’s so great about Annie anyways. She’s stuck up. Probably thinks she’s better than everyone else. Maybe that’s why they get along so well.”

_Little Miss Perfect._

“Eren-” Armin reached for his arm, but he jerked away, standing up quickly in an attempt to disguise the motion.

“I’m fine. Stop worrying about me all the time.” He turned in a huff, only to run smack into a bare-chested lifeguard, ruining all chances of a dramatic exit.

“Marco? Is that really you?!” Sasha leapt to her feet, scattering sand everywhere.

Eren stepped back, his face flushing from both anger and embarrassment. The dark-haired boy beamed down at the group, his freckled cheeks stretching into a smile.

“Wow this is crazy!’ He exclaimed, wincing a little as Sasha tackled him in a side-hug. “I never really expected to see you guys again after graduation. Are you all Titans now?”

“You bet!” Connie chimed in.

“Final roster hasn’t been posted yet,” Jean griped. His gaze was focused studiously on the sand between his toes.

“Oh hey Jean, shoulda figured you’d be trying out this year too,” Marco laughed nervously. The other boy cleared his throat, his mouth puckering down in a scowl.

“If only you were younger!” Sasha wailed, breaking the awkward silence. “There’s this new girl, Krista. She’s a freshman and she’d adorable and suuuper good…”

Eren tuned out the conversation as the two began chatting animatedly about diving. 

“I’m going for a walk,” he muttered to Armin, who nodded without looking up from his book. Jean had also stood up, crumpling his soda can and tossing it halfheartedly towards the garbage bin a few yards down the beach. Eren decided, for both their sanities, to take his stroll in the opposite direction.

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately the soft sand of the beach began to morph into more rugged rock about half a mile down the shore. Eren cursed, thinking of the shoes he’d left back in the van. Not yet ready to rejoin the group, he circled back; taking the boardwalk, which would shield him from view with ice cream stands, surf rentals, and tacky t-shirt shops.

The light was beginning to fade; the sky turning soft pink where it met the ocean. Eren kicked at a discarded cigarette butt, ash sprinkling over the sun-warmed planks.

_Eren, if you want to make friends, you have to be nicer to the other children._ His father’s words still echoed in his ears, sending tendrils of frustration curling like vines in his stomach. He bit at the tender skin on his thumb.

_As if it was that easy. What am I supposed to do, let people walk all over me? Like hell. Sometimes the other kids aren’t too nice themselves. It was easier to be “the guy with the bad temper” than “the guy with a sick Mom”._

He heard a soft, desperate sigh behind him. Eren paused, the hairs on the nape of his neck prickling.

“Keep it down,” A voice reprimanded.

_That sounds familiar…_

A muffled giggle. This time he could pinpoint the noise. An alley between a boarded-up pizzeria and an indoor golf course to his right. Eren couldn’t help his curiosity. He crossed the wide boardwalk, taking care to stay on the balls of his feet. He pressed himself against the peeling gray front of the golf course, but still couldn’t see anything.

A small thump, followed by rustling. Another breathless noise, almost a moan.

_What the hell?_

Eren peered around a large cut-out cartoon figure in a cowboy hat, advertising “Hot n Ready Steaks” further down the path. His jaw dropped open.

Marco, the diver, the friendly freckled lifeguard was pressed against the rough brick of the pizzeria, mouth open as someone nipped playfully at his neck.

Someone with an all-too-recognizable undercut.

_But I thought… Mikasa…_

_“Why, do you liiiike him?”_

_“Shut the fuck up Jaeger.”_

Eren’s stomach puckered. He was watching something private, forbidden.

_If I stepped out, or even took a picture in secret…I could destroy him right now._

But he hushed the more vindictive part of his mind. There was danger here, yes, but also something… exciting? Eren’s chest felt oddly tight, his heart knocking at his ribs. It was as if he was being swallowed by a giant boa constrictor; the fight-or-flight instinct sending random impulses racing through his body.

_Get out of here before they see you! Just pretend nothing happened._

His feet stayed glued to the planks. Marco gasped again, short and harsh. Eren realized with a sickening certainty that, to some extent, he was _enjoying_ it _._

_Nonono this is all wrong._

“Fuck, I missed you,” Jean muttered into his collarbone.

_What about Annie? Everyone else thinks we’re dating and she’s definitely pretty, I should like her right? Oh my God._

“I know, I’m sorry,” Marco said sadly, pulling away.

 “Yeah,” Jean was staring at his feet now; head bowed uncharacteristically like he was trying to make himself smaller. “College, right? The distance…”

Marco squirmed a little, his fingers reaching out for the other boy but then stuttering back. “And my parents. I’m still not-”

“I get it!” Jean spat. He squared his shoulders, all traces of vulnerability vanishing. “We’re just a hookup thing,” he turned and for a moment Eren was afraid he’d been spotted.

“It’s fine. Seriously.” His eyes were flat, devoid of emotion.

“Okay,” Marco’s voice had a slight quaver to it. “See you around then?”

“I guess.” He prodded a loose nail with his toe.

_They’re about to leave. Gotta get out of here._

Eren backed away, head spinning dizzily, nails digging into sticky palms. As soon as he was out of earshot he began running blindly, vaulting over the rail and down to the beach. Blood pounded to the rhythm of his feet, beating a fierce tattoo in his ears.

He crashed against the incoming tide, gagging into the surf. The cold water splashed up and stung Eren’s cheeks, mixing with the clammy sweat that was beading on his neck. From somewhere far away, he heard voices calling out for him and Jean.

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which The Roster is finally posted, and Eren doesn't really understand how asexuality works.

Eren stared down at the phone in his hands like it was a snake that could rear up and bite him at any moment. He was surrounded by books, papers, and various other detritus from the first day of school. Another year with listless, boring people, taking pointless classes with teachers who were counting down the years until they could retire. None of that mattered right now.  

_How am I supposed to do this?_

His fingers hovered over the keys, shaking with nerves and indecision. Hundreds of possibilities swamped his brain.

_Hey Armin, have you ever had a crush on anyone before?_

_How does a guy know that he likes other guys? Hypothetically speaking…_

_Dude I think I’m gay._

He jumped as the phone buzzed in his hands. For one glorious second, he felt relieved; Armin, diabolical genius that he was, had somehow read his mind. Or perhaps noticed his stilted, sullen silence on the car ride home from the beach, doing everything in his power not to look at Jean.

Armin: Are you ready?!?!?

Armin: I am not ready

_What?_

Then suddenly it hit him: The swim team roster.

Eren: ull b fine. Bertholt’s the only other distance guy rite?

Armin: BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HIM? HE’S A FREAKING COLOSSUS. Anyway, you guys are coming to get me right? I’d really hate to be late TODAY of all days.

Eren glanced at the clock. _Shit._

“yup ttys” he texted back, at the same time cramming shoes on his feet and hollering for Mikasa.

 

* * *

 

The pool deck was abuzz by the time they arrived, the entire team cramped around the bulletin board outside the locker rooms. Only Annie stood off to the side, aloof, but with a satisfied look on her face.

“Are you shitting me?!” Jean exclaimed, tearing himself away from the crowd. He stalked off, fuming, towards the lane lines that hung like fat, plastic worms from the wall on the opposite side of the pool. He shot Eren a venomous glare as he passed.

_I’ll take that as a good sign._

The spirit of competition was quickly driving all thoughts of romance from Eren’s brain. His heartbeat quickened as they approached the small white squares that had their fates printed on them in a simple, minimalistic font.

Mikasa barely glanced at the list before heading off to stretch with a mere shrug of her well-muscled shoulders. Armin breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that, while he’d been excluded from the mile, he was still slotted in the second heat for the five-hundred freestyle.

Eren had to scan much further down; the curse of having a last name that didn’t begin with “A”. He saw he was… In the last heat of the fifty free?!

“Close your mouth Jaeger, you look like you just shit your pants,” Levi drawled.

_How the hell does he manage to sneak up on people like that?_

“Err thanks Coach! I know it’s a big risk, putting a rookie in an event that’s so competitive.”

“I’m not doing this as a favor,” Levi bluntly. “It’s a test to see if the extra work you’ve been doing with Leonhart has payed off at all.”

_How does he know these things? Maybe he’s ex-Secret Service. Or a ninja in a past life._

“I-I won’t let you down!” Eren stammered, feeling the glorious rush of both pressure and pride within him.

Coach had already turned his attentions back to the pool, but he muttered something that sounded a lot like “You’d better not.”

 Eren quickly memorized his heat and lane assignments for his other events. He was in the third heat of the 100 and 200- the latter a move that surprised him as he’d always thought himself a pure sprinter. There would undoubtedly be a relay or two, though those had not yet been posted. With the meet itself still nearly two weeks away, Eren figured he was waiting to see how the team dynamics fell into place; choosing only those who could work together as a well-oiled machine.

_I beat Jean out in the fifty free, but he’s fastest in all the backstroke events, so I don’t see why he’s so upset. Maybe just because Connie and I were the ones who beat him._

“Nice job.” Eren didn’t think anything could top getting acknowledged by Coach, but Annie’s curt congratulations came pretty darn close.

“Well, uh I guess I should be thanking you for that.”

“No biggie,” she graced him with one of her rare smiles. “You’re not actually as dumb as you look.”

 Eren was surprised at the swell of affection he felt in his chest.

_Maybe I’ve just been over-analyzing things. What I saw at the park… It was awkward! Anyone would have a hard time getting that out of their head. Besides, Annie’s great to hang out with, and she seems to understand some of the shit I’ve been going through back home. Half the team thinks we’re already dating anyways…_

Emboldened by his recent success, and feeling slightly desperate to get Jean off of his mind, Eren reached out to grab Annie’s shoulder as she walked away.

“Doyouwanttogooutsometime?”

Crap. It had sounded much more relaxed in his head.  

Annie’s eyebrows knit together in an odd mixture of confusion and pity.

“Mikasa didn’t tell you?”

“The hell does she have to do with anything?!” Eren blurted out, his anger quickly eradicating any embarrassment he may have felt.

Annie flushed; for her, it was an intimidatingly raw display of emotion that put Eren instantly on edge.

“I think maybe you should ask her about it,” Annie mumbled, shaking off his arm. She then set off for her lane without a backward glance.

Eren fought back the urge to follow her, as a blast from Levi’s whistle signaled that practice was about to officially start. He took a deep breath and shoved down the confusion and irritation, hoping he could use the ill-defined emotions to fuel his swimming rather than distract him.

_That’s the last thing I need right now,_ he thought as he watched Jean’s lean torso disappear under the water.

 

* * *

 

“Sooo Annie?” Eren made a valiant attempt to keep his voice casual, but he could tell from the way Mikasa tensed that he had failed miserably.

“What about her?”

They had just finished dropping off Armin at the public library. Apparently one of his AP teachers had already assigned a research paper, and Armin didn’t have the patience to deal with his grandfather’s dial-up connection.

“I dunno,” Mikasa was being surprisingly difficult on the subject. He debated mentioning that he’d asked her on a date, but decided against it.

“You guys have seemed pretty close recently,” he hedged.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Mikasa intoned, never once taking her eyes from the road. She clenched the steering wheel like a shield in front of her.

“Your WHAT?” Eren shook his head to clear it. Surely he’d heard wrong?

“We’re dating.” Her tone didn’t waver.

Eren was speechless. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Mikasa, sharp and opaque, in love with dour Annie?  His brain skittered away from the mental image them holding hands, leaning in for a kiss…

“Why didn’t you tell me you liked girls?” He blurted out, feeling slightly betrayed.

_Why didn’t Annie come right out and say it when I asked her to date me? It never even occurred to me that she was gay._

“I don’t like girls OR boys.”

Eren stared at her.

_Am I dreaming? Hallucinating? None of this is making any sense._  

“I like Annie,” Mikasa said simply, as if that clarified the situation.

“Okay…”He waited for an explanation, but none was forthcoming. She merely narrowed her eyes and let out a frustrated huff.

“Just don’t tell anyone.” Mikasa chewed on her lower lip. “I personally don’t care either way but Annie… Has a reputation to protect.”

The air in the van was turgid with unspoken questions. Eren fidgeted in the tense silence. He’d considered bringing up the whole Jean debacle, but now he wasn’t so sure Mikasa was the right person to ask.

_Why’s she being so secretive? Doesn’t she trust me?_ He thought with a small flare of anger.

“What do you mean you only like Annie- she’s a girl isn’t she? How does that not make you g-”

 “You know, you should really talk to Grisha about getting your driver's license.”

Eren sighed and looked out the window instead. Clearly the conversation was over.

 

* * *

 

Dinner that evening was a silent, hurried affair. Plates were passed from hand to hand with barely a murmur of acknowledgement. Grisha had just returned from his shift, gripping his utensils with hands still raw from countless pairs of latex gloves and harsh sanitizers.

Mikasa coughed pointedly. Eren reached out under the table to deliver a swift, delicate kick to her ankle.

_If I bring it up now, he’s just gonna say no because he’s a tired, cranky mess right now._

Unfortunately, either his telepathy failed or Mikasa chose to ignore it because she proceeded to toss her head towards Grisha in a series of short, jerky nods. As if to say, _Go ahead, he’s all yours!_

Eren’s father put down his fork with a sigh.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

_Nice one. Real subtle._ He glared mutinously at Mikasa, but she only raised an eyebrow in her typical impervious fashion.  

“I wanna get my license,” He mumbled into his mashed potatoes, cursing the way Grisha’s steady gaze always made him feel small and insignificant.

His father absentmindedly brushed a stray hair away from his temple. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Short, clipped, end of story.

“Why not? Mikasa got hers right away!”

“She’s much more conscientious and careful than you. Plus, the roads are going to get bad once winter starts up and I don’t want to have you, an inexperience driver, out in the middle of all that.” The calm, measured tones made Eren feel all the more insulted. As if he was a small child who couldn’t quite grasp the concept that was being explained.

“I think he can handle it,” Mikasa cut in smoothly. “Besides, once I get busy with all the pre-college programs, I might not have time to drive him everywhere.”

“I don’t need to you defend me!” Eren snapped, though he noted with chagrin, that his father’s expression had softened into something more contemplative.

“I’ll think about it,” he sighed, waving a dismissive hand at the two of them. “Right now I need to sleep. Goodnight, and don’t stay up too late.” With a groan of his chair, and the soft clink of cutlery, he was gone.

Mikasa turned to Eren, her lips quirking up as if to say, _see, it wasn’t that hard!_

“Your turn to do the dishes,” he growled, and stalked off to his room without another word.

As soon as he flopped facedown onto his bed, Eren realized how _tired_ he was. His muscles ached from the consistently grueling practices, and his brain despaired at the notebooks scattered across the floor, holding homework assignments that had yet to be finished. And then there was the whole business with Jean and Annie and Mikasa…

Eren felt his face flush hot against his pillow. With an angry snort, he pushed those thoughts farther down before he had a chance to examine them. He was determined to hold them at a distance, where they could smolder and feed his power in the water without hurting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for reading! If you'd like to hit me up on tumblr, my username is stopblowingholesinmeship.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get as much writing done before classes start up again! Fortunately I've got several chapters lined up already, should the going get tough. 
> 
> I'm so grateful for all of your support <3

_A scream pierced their peaceful afternoon like an arrow through armor._

_The plastic dinosaur Eren held poised above Mikasa’s carefully constructed block fortress fell with a clatter from his nerveless grasp._

_Mikasa’s feet were already disappearing around the corner of the living room when he finally forced himself into action. The hallway to his parents’ room had never stretched so long; miles and miles of bare hardwood floor, until his socks slid up to the door._

_His mother was hunched over on the floral comforter, one hand over her mouth and the other pressed against her temple. Her eyes were wide open, but they stared, blank and uncomprehending, into space like a frightened animal._

_Mikasa slid into the bed, pressing herself against Karla’s side as if she could help her by pure will alone._

_“It’s alright,” She whispered into her ear, face milky-white. “Me and Eren are here.”_

_“I-I’m gonna call Dad!” Eren squeaked. He raced back toward the kitchen but something was wrong. The phone loomed over him, cradled safely in the receiver, far out of his reach. Even the emergency numbers, neatly transcribed in sharpie marker and taped to the wall, seemed to stretch up and away. It was like looking through the wrong end of a telescope; the more he strained his arm out, palm open, grasping, the higher they appeared. Three feet, six, ten… A skyscraper with the one thing Eren needed in the world dangling uselessly from the top._

He woke with a gasp. The alarm clock blinked out 5:30 in the grey light of early morning. Eren rolled over with a groan. He hadn’t had that particular nightmare in years.

_Well I have been pretty stressed out lately…_

Two weeks had passed by in a chlorinated haze. Even the long hours in class had been spent visualizing his technique; directing every last bit on energy into the upcoming meet.

And on avoiding Jean Kirschtein.

While swim practice had been just as physically demanding as ever, Eren had always found an emotional outlet as his muscles burned from effort. Now it was hell.

He was so _exposed_. Not just in a constantly-wearing-a-Speedo way, but the fact that he was now aware that everyone around him could potentially read his mind. Any glance, touch, or comment could condemn him.

Each time Jean jostled against him for a better position on the wall, he’d freeze; a violent collage of emotions warring within him where there had once been only irritation. Anger usually won.

Even Connie had noticed that their fights were taking on a nastier edge; rather than egging them on, he’d merely cast a concerned eye over both parties and shake his head.

As for Jean himself, well…

_He should just stop breathing down my fucking neck all the time. I was gonna feel sorry for him because of the whole breakup thing but he doesn’t even seem sad about that. He just keeps going on about how he’s gonna get a scholarship to swim for Trost, and won’t ever come back to this shitty little town again. Acting better than everyone cuz he’s gonna move to the city._

Eren snorted, flicking back the covers angrily. It was just late enough to make going back to sleep pointless. Levi had wanted them on the bus and ready to roll at 7AM sharp, which meant they’d have to leave at 6:30 to get Armin.

_Might as well get ready to race._

His bag had all been laid out the night before, but he checked it once again just to make sure.

_Extra cap, towels, plenty of snacks. Should I pack another suit, just in case?_

He felt a small shiver of pride at the thought that most teens his age were fast asleep in their beds; a normal, boring weekend ahead of them.

 Excitement was starting to spark through his veins, despite the challenges of the past few weeks; a simmering anticipation that traveled like a shiver up and down his spine. Eren decided sitting still was hopeless and bounded into the kitchen, rifling through the cupboards for some pancake mix.

_Ha! Hope Mikasa doesn’t drop dead from shock when she sees I made breakfast this time. Then there’ll be no one left to drive …_

 

* * *

 

By the time they’d pulled up to the Aquatic Center, Eren was starting to regret the three pancakes he’d scarfed down. Carb-loading was one thing, but combined with the adrenaline pumping through him, they sat with an uneasy heaviness in his gut.

“Let’s break some records today, yeah?!” He crowed, slapping Armin on the back as he hopped out of the van.

The smaller boy smiled wanly. “Honestly, I just want-”

“To swim faster than ever before!”  Eren cut in. He knew that calming Armin’s pre-race jitters usually did wonders for himself as well.

Mikasa ignored the exchange and breezed past to the group of people milling about the bus. Levi was looking grumpier than ever, a cup of coffee clutched so tightly in his fist that his knuckles were white. He kept consulting his clipboard and muttering under his breath, occasionally making a vain attempt to organize the chattering swimmers into some sort of boarding line.

Hanji on the other hand was as cheerful as ever, the thrill of the first meet heightening their mania. They bounced through the crowd like an errant pinball, fist bumping swimmers and divers alike.

“Arrrrrre you ready kids?”

“Aye aye captain!” Sasha and Connie responded in perfect unison, before Levi clamped a hand over Hanji’s mouth; silencing the exchange before it got any further.

“It’s time to get on the bus, but first I have a few things to say,” He snapped, and the parking instantly fell silent.

“One. There will be no singing, chanting, cheering, or any other extraneous noise about your average speaking voice. Two. If you eat on the bus you are to dispose of any and all trash in the bag at the front of the bus immediately. Three. The team we’re facing today is a pathetic bunch of brats, so if we lose to them you’ll be swimming broken 1000s until I say you can stop.” He waved his clipboard in to air menacingly. “You’re gonna be seated in alphabetical order because I’m not dealing with your whiny asses fighting over who gets to sit where.”

“He even put little nametags on the seats, isn’t that cute?” Hanji mumbled gleefully around his hand.

There was a wave of discontented grumbling at this announcement but no one dared step forward with an official complaint.

_Jeez, does he think we’re in Kindergarten?_

He noticed Armin was looking at him with a smug smile.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll probably get to sit up front with Mikasa, while I’m stuck halfway to the back with some random lose-”

He froze.

He would not be sitting with just any random loser.

_Is it too late to tell Coach that there’s been a mistake on the roster and that “Jaeger actually starts with a ‘Y’?”_

Armin chuckled.

“You’d better hope he’s forgotten about the whole ‘wet willy’ thing on the way to the beach. If you guys get into a fistfight in the aisles, I’m pretty sure Levi will throw you under the bus without even blinking.”

Eren wasn’t listening. He was too busy running through scenarios that would be preferable to this.

_A plane crash._

_Sudden lightning strike._

He forced his wooden legs to move down the narrow aisle. The tangle of sprawled limbs and bags seemed to stretch endlessly in front of him.

_Play it cool, Jaeger. Maybe I’m forgetting someone. One of the seniors could have a last name in between ours, right?_

But then he spied his name, written out in neat block letters, clinging to the back of the seat next to Jean’s.

Eren cleared his throat nervously, but the other boy only quirked an eyebrow at him before turning back to stare out the window.

_It looks like he has bags under his eyes. Was he having trouble sleeping because of the meet or is he still upset about Marco?_

Eren pushed those thoughts out of his head as he focused instead on sitting down without touching any part of Jean; tucking his elbows into his sides, and crossing his ankles so their knees wouldn’t actually brush.  Jean refused to acknowledge his presence, jamming earbuds in his ears with a scowl.

Eren huffed out a sigh. It was going to be a very, very, long ride.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two dorks bonding over bad music, and a large dose of sexual frustration.

_The deck was a chaotic mass of bare legs, soggy towels, and granola bar wrappers. Excited chatter swelled to a dull roar, amplified by the tiles. Karla gave his hand a squeeze before she left to claim a spot on the bleachers._

_“Swim fast you two- I’ll be cheering extra loud!”_

The palpable tension in the air before a meet never failed to energize Eren. He bounced rhythmically on the balls of his feet and swung his arms in circles to keep the blood flowing. His first event wouldn’t be for a while, and he knew that once he got revved up, he wouldn’t be able to calm down until later; long after the adrenaline of the meet wore off.

Eren strolled along the deck, watching everyone’s pre-meet rituals with mild interest. Mikasa was off in a corner; her head bowed low over her outstretched leg so that it obscured her face. Annie was contorting herself similarly next to her.

_No surprise there._

Armin had his eyes closed, fingers pressed against his temples. He was seated cross-legged on a towel like some sort of speedo-clad guru. Eren knew that he was visualizing the race; mentally stacking himself up with any statistics he’d gleaned on his opponents, searching for weaknesses he could exploit.

“Okay how about this, if you get less than fourth place in the fifty free then you have to… post one of your baby pictures on the bulletin board for the whole team to see!”

“Alright, but if you fail any of your dives then you have to eat my swim trunks.”

Sasha and Connie shook hands.

Eren paused when he reached the end of their team’s section, marked by a sudden change in the color of bags and jackets. Jean was squished onto the end of their bench, head bobbing along to music only he could hear. He was frowning down at his hands, eyebrows knit in concentration. Eren figured he wouldn’t appreciate an interruption and, despite their rivalry, neither boy would dream of breaking the other’s focus before an important race. He almost kept walking, when he caught the sound of a familiar beat.

“No way,” Eren murmured to himself, before pivoting to face Jean. “No, WAY,” he shouted this time, inflecting his voice with equal parts disbelief, disgust, and glee.

“IS THAT BRITTANY SPEARS?”

A red flush crept of the back of Jean’s neck like an unsightly rash. He yanked out his earbuds and stuffed them hurriedly into the pocket of his warm-up jacket. His lips moved, but his words were swallowed by the clamor.

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Eren grinned with satisfaction as he noted that most of the team had now zeroed in on their conversation.

“It gets me pumped up, okay?” Jean folded his arms across his chest in an attempt to be nonchalant, but was betrayed by his burning face. “What do _you_ listen to, screamo garbage? At least Brittany was um, a well-respected pop artist in her time who…,” he trailed off helplessly as Connie collapsed into giggles.

“You haven’t changed a bit.” The words tumbled unbidden from Eren’s lips.

Jean froze, his mouth hanging open slightly in confusion.

“Like, didn’t you listen to really corny songs at meets even when we were back with Coach Ral?” He added hastily.

The other boy relaxed in increments; his shoulders beginning to uncoil, lips slipping back into their habitual smirk.

“Let’s not forget who was the one who _danced_ to them!”

“That was that ONE TIME,” Eren protested. “We’d been sitting for hours. I had to do _something_ or I would’ve died of boredom.”

“Jittery dork,” Jean chuckled.

Eren let out a snort. “Says the one who goes to private school. Anyways, I’m gonna go stretch. You can keep up your weenie ‘meditation’ or whatever, just be ready to have your ass kicked.”

“I’ll be picturing the way your face is gonna look when you lose,” Jean sneered, but he held his hand out for Eren to slap.

 “Holdup, is this a genuine moment of affection between Kirstein and Jaeger? I must capture this for posterity!” Connie exclaimed, pretending to click the shutter on an imaginary camera.

They raised their middle fingers in unison, but Eren felt an odd fluttering in his stomach that was totally unrelated to nerves.

  _I don’t have time for this shit._

Fortunately, Levi was beckoning them over with an impatient jerk of his head. Whatever crazy, mixed-up emotions Eren was feeling, they would have to wait until after the meet.

 

* * *

 

_I can’t believe this is actually happening._

Eren barely noticed the slick, chilly tiles under his feet as he approached the starting block. The whistle blew and Connie stepped up, giving a brief thumbs-up to his teammates without turning around.  

_Coach picked us, three ROOKIES, to swim the 200 free relay. The last event. We could be the deciding factor in this meet._

 ‘Take your marks!”

Connie grasped the block’s rough underside, head tucked as if in prayer.

The gun went off and he shot forward, his small statute putting him at a momentary disadvantage. Until he hit the water, that is. A wave of white spray erupted as Connie broke the surface, legs fluttering at a frenetic pace. Teammates on the sidelines whooped as he started to pull ahead.

By the time he touched the wall, he’d built up a decent lead for Reiner, a Junior year veteran who somehow turned his bulky frame into an absolute powerhouse in the water. He wasn’t the quickest however; his true strength lay in breast stroke and mid-distance, but Eren hoped his solid and dependable technique would pull through.

_Because in the end…_

Any trace of cockiness had vanished from Jean’s face as he rolled his shoulders and stepped up to the blocks. Reiner was coming in steady, but another swimmer was now hot on his heels. His hand slammed into the touchpad as Jean dove in with surprising grace.     

Eren’s eyes instinctively flicked to the bleachers, searching out the place where his mom used to sit.

_Front row, all the way to the left. Same spot no matter where we were racing, so we’d always know where to find her._

It was now occupied by a balding man holding up a sign the screamed “GO JOEY” in all capitals. Eren shook his head to bring himself down to earth. Jean was on his way back, fighting tooth and nail to stay even with the boy next to him.

_So it’s gonna come down to me after all. Time to show Annie and Levi that all the tutoring paid off._

Eren’s world narrowed as he stepped up to the blocks; his teammates melting into a blur of multi-colored towels, their cheers fading into a dull roar in the background. All that mattered was the 25-meter strip of water ahead of him.

Jean plowed forward, the muscles on his arms and legs straining from the effort.

_Closer._

Eren’s shoulders twitched back in preparation for the handoff. He was suffused with an uncharacteristic warmth, a nervous tingling that spread outward from his belly.

_Wait for it…_

Jean’s back was almost beneath him, a flash of smooth, pale skin that stood out from the surrounding spray.

_Now!_

He leapt forward.   

 

* * *

 

All coherent thought vanished once he hit the water. The only language he could understand was the burn of his muscles and lungs as they cried out for oxygen. He had only the thick, black line on the bottom of the pool left to guide him. Every cell screamed _faster_ , until his vision began to grey at the edges but he was almost to the wall he just had to reachoutandtouch.

Eren broke the surface with a gasp. He instantly glanced at the scoreboard, a breathless hope in his chest.

“LANE 5 DQ” flashed out in harsh neon.

_Disqualified._

_Oh shit, oh fucking shit._

Eren hauled himself out of the pool, unable to look at his teammate’s faces.

_I saw him coming up to the wall. Jean must’ve held back before the finish…_

Regardless, it was the diver’s responsibility to wait until the touch.

Levi was already hustling along the length of the deck towards them, storm clouds rolling in across his brow. Reiner let out a huge sigh and cracked his neck, as if preparing himself for whatever onslaught they might face. Connie just shuffled his fee awkwardly, watching Eren out of the corner of his eye. Jean, however, was livid.

“I can’t believe this,” He hissed under his breath. “I thought you’d gotten _better_ since you were ten, not worse.”

“Maybe if you’d learned how to finish a goddam race-”

“What the hell happened out there?” Levi cut in. His tone was flat and expressionless as always, but every word tingled with electricity. “Each and every one of you completely fell apart. One of the worst relays I’ve seen in my entire fucking career,” he griped, running a hand through his hair.

“But-” Eren started to protest, but Levi raised his voice a few decibles.

“A disqualification is a failure on the entire team’s fault, not just an individual. That’s why I don’t usually put rookies together in relays- they haven’t learned each other’s rhythms yet. I honestly thought you could handle it.” The sarcasm was caustic. 

“Despite your shit performance, we still managed to win the meet, so you can thank your other teammates that you won’t be swimming laps tomorrow. Though if I were you, I’d think long and hard about showing your face around my pool again.” With that, he pivoted and stalked off, hands clasped behind his back.

“Don’t worry, he always says that,” Reiner explained, rolling his eyes. “Seriously, I think I’ve been kicked off the team…,” his face contorted as he gave an exaggerated squint, “Seven times now? Sure he’ll be pissed for a couple weeks, and FORGET about landing good heats for the next meet, but he’ll get over it eventually.”

Eren didn’t find this comforting, and looking around at his friend’s faces, they didn’t either. Connie had turned an odd grey color, while Jean’s lips were compressed in a flat, hard line. He flashed Eren a look of pure loathing. His left hand twitched into a fist, as if he wanted to pound Eren into the deck right then and there. Instead, he snorted through his nose and stomped back to his spot on the bench.

 Eren watched his retreating back with an odd mixture of indignation, rage, and yearning swirling in his gut. Despite what Levi had said, _somebody_ was at fault for the disqualification, and both Connie and Reiner’s handoffs had been clean.

_It wasn’t my fault, though that asshole will never admit it. We’d actually been getting along before the race, now I don’t think we’ll be able to be in the same room without throwing punches._

He was vaguely aware of Armin slinging a comforting arm around his shoulder, steering him towards the locker room.

_I didn’t think it’d be possible for the bus ride back to be any worse…_


	11. Chapter 11

The alarm clock buzzed gratingly in his ear. A reminder that even though it was Sunday, he still had practice to attend and both Levi and Jean to face.

His first instinct was to smash it against the wall.

_If I skip today, everyone’ll know why and they’ll all think I’m a coward._

Eren jabbed the snooze botton, wishing he could dig his finger all the way down to its little electric brain and shut it up for good. He dragged himself into the kitchen with his bag slung over his shoulder. It was still full of all his damp equipment from the meet, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Mikasa was sitting at the table, hands folded primly in her lap and chewing on her lip; an uncommon display of nervousness for her.

“I can’t drive you home from practice today.”

_Not nervous enough to take away her blunt edge, apparently._

He grunted in response, fishing around in the cupboard for a box of Poptarts. _Wouldn’t be in issue if Dad let me get my damn license._

“Annie and I are going on a date after.”

“Fine.” Eren tried not to let sourness cloud his tone, but the thought of dragging his sorry ass a mile and a half back after such a grueling ordeal wasn’t helping to improve his mood.

“Do you think I should wear something nice?”

He almost dropped the box in surprise. He searched his memory for a time when Mikasa had _ever_ worried about her appearance. It wasn’t that she dressed poorly, quite the opposite in most cases, but she definitely chose function over form; leaving her with a simple, spare wardrobe. Fashion as a statement had never interested her.

“Mikasa, you went to the Scholar-Athlete dinner wearing your swimsuit underneath because we had a meet later and it was ‘more practical’.”

She rolled her eyes, as if Eren was being intentionally dense. “This is actually important.”

He sat down across the table from her and shoved half a Poptart in his mouth.

“If you don’t _like_ like people, what’re you even gonna do on a date anyway?” He muttered around the crumbs.  

Mikasa sniffed. “I might allow her to hold my hand.” Only a small gleam in her eye betrayed the sarcasm behind her words. “What would you know about dates anyways? Is there something you aren’t telling me?” Her eyes narrowed.

Eren narrowly avoided choking to death.

“H-hey you’re the one who asked _me_ for advice,” he spluttered, hoping that Mikasa would attribute his red coloring to food going down the wrong pipe, rather than embarrassment.

“Well?”

“Uhh I don’t feel like Annie cares much about that sort of thing. Wear what you’re comfortable with, I guess.”

A muscle in her cheek twitched in annoyance.

“That’s not helpful.”

“Fine! Wear that black skirt you have and… A white top?” _That’s cute, right?_

Mikasa nodded. “That’d look good with my scarf, too.”

Eren managed to muffle his exasperated sigh as he glanced at the clock on the oven. Usually she was the one shoving him out the door, not the other way round.

 

* * *

 

_I’m happy for Mikasa. Really. It’s nice that she and Annie have… Whatever it is. It’s been tough for her the past couple of years too,_ Eren thought desperately.

Still, as he watched them walk into the Aquatic Center- so close their shoulders brushed, Eren felt something rise painfully in his chest, like it was trying to twist and claw its way out. Even Armin was oblivious, scuttling behind them with his nose buried in a Chemistry book; a frantic attempt to grab some last-minute studying.

Eren gritted his teeth, staring down the front door, hating the way failure tasted on his tongue.

_You’re gonna go in there, and you’re gonna show them that you won’t back down. Quitting isn’t an option. Ever. Since when did you care what other people thought about you anyways?_

“Oi Eren! Decided to show your face around here after all?”

Eren whirled around to find Jean smirking at him.

“Fuck you!” He spat, his hands curling into fists. _Remember, he’s in deep shit with Levi too._

“Hey, I’m just being honest.” Jean shrugged exaggeratedly as if to show he meant no harm, though the nasty quirk of his lips spoke otherwise. “Levi gave a nice little speech about teamwork yesterday, but we all know SOMEBODY has to be at fault. I dunno if he was trying to spare your feelings or what-”

Eren felt the dull ache in his chest start to throb and expand. It was pulsing through his temples, down his arms and into his palms, which were getting sore from the pressure his nails were exerting.

“Shut up,” he growled.

_You have no idea what it’s like, what I’ve been hiding. I’m sick and tired of all this shit._

Eren reached out and snagged a fistful of Jean’s jacket, pulling him close.

“Dude calm down _._ You take everything so damn personally _,_ ” Jean jeered. “What’re tryin’ to do anyways, punch me or kiss me?”

Eren could feel the other boy’s breath on his face, lips slightly parted.

_What if…_

He hesitated a second too long. Saw confusion flit across Jean’s face like a cloud before then sun. The heat between them suddenly became oppressive, the pounding in his temples intensifying until it felt like his heart was beating right inside his head. He shoved Jean, who stumbled back a few paces.

Eren’s throat worked convulsively, trying to create an excuse, an apology, but all he could manage was an uncomfortable wet _click_.  

“The hell-”Jean began, but he didn’t wait for him to finish. His bag fell with a soft thump on the asphalt as he turned and sprinted away from Sina Aquatic Center as if the devil himself were chasing him.

 

* * *

 

His feet pounded out a harsh tattoo, matching the blood signing in his ears.

_Don’t think, just move._

It wouldn’t do to dwell on the fact that he had very likely ended his swimming career over a moment of ill-timed lust, or that he was currently running from the only thing he’d managed to care about since his mother’s death. And the only people who’d supported him.

_They can’t help me this time._

No, it was best to push on; even as his lungs screamed for air, and town around him faded to a muddy blur as his eyes filled with tears.

He wasn’t watching the traffic light. He wasn’t aware of anything really, other than the desire to tear off his own skin.

The sharp blast of a horn sounded to his immediate left and his head snapped up, but it was far too late. Eren got a fleeting glimpse of the driver’s panicked eyes before the world exploded into screeching tires and the ominous crunch of metal on bone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you thought this was going to be a happy lil fic I am sO SORRY


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On one hand, I feel bad for causing pain but on the other I'm really happy to see everyone so emotionally involved in the story!!  
> I didn't want to keep you waiting, but fair warning- I'm posting this after a twelve hour shift, so please feel free to point out any dumb mistakes I've missed.

_This is your chance. Now or never._

_“Hey Mikasa, there’s like, a dance for the seventh graders at my school. And um, I was wondering if you’d w-want to go with me?” Jean ran a hand through his hair, fingers brushing the stiff layer of gel that slicked it back. He tried to smile like he’d practiced in the mirror; a casual side-grin like Harrison Ford’s. It wasn’t quite the same with a mouthful of braces._

_“I don’t like to dance,” she replied flatly, scuffing the toe of her sneaker in the dirt as she pushed back on her swing. The sun was just beginning to set on the playground of their old elementary school, the peach-colored light softening the severity of her expression. Or so he imagined._

_“Thank you for the offer,” Mikasa added with an almost robotic politeness. She hopped off the swing in one fluid motion, her hair spilling out behind her like ink._

_“SHUT DOWWWNNN!” Eren crowed from on top of the monkey bars. He bent over in a crouch and leapt off, landing with not nearly as much grace as his foster sister._

_Jean sighed, tearing his eyes away from the back of Mikasa’s head. Even Eren’s asshole commentary couldn’t manage to irritate him. He just felt wrung out and empty, like a deflated balloon._

_“Seriously, why do you keep chasing after her? It’s obvious she doesn’t like you back.”_

_Jean opened his mouth to respond with a stinging rant about how he CLEARLY didn’t understand how true love worked, but Eren plowed ahead as usual, oblivious._

_“Wouldn’t you be happier with someone who actually paid attention to you? Spending all your energy mooning after Mikasa’s just stupid. Do you even know her that well?”_

_“Of course I do!” He snapped indignantly. Who was Eren to tell him that he was wasting his time? Eren probably still thought girls had cooties._

_The smaller boy shrugged his shoulders._

_“Just sayin’. I don’t think she really cares if boys like her or not.”_

_Maybe I can be the exception, Jean thought to himself; hope fluttering in his chest like a candle in a storm._

_His romantic musings were interrupted when Eren punched him in the gut and challenged him to a footrace, taking off at top speed without even waiting for an answer._

_Unbelievable._

 

* * *

 

Jean stared at Eren’s retreating back like he’d done so many times before; on the playground, at swim meets.

Only this time it felt different, somehow. The competitive spark was gone from the other boy’s eyes, replaced by a glimpse of stark fear. Rather than issue a challenge, it felt as if Eren had backed away from one.

_What the fuck did I just witness?_

 Eren’s shaking hands, the doubt in his voice; it had seemed so uncharacteristic that Jean wanted to write it off as some sort of bizarre lucid dream. That he’d wake up on the couch with a crick in his neck and the TV emitting a soft, muted glow.

_I was just teasing him like always,_ he thought with a flash of annoyance. As if _he_ was somehow responsible for whatever weird problems Jaeger was having at the moment.

But something rankled at the back of his mind, an itch he just couldn’t quite reach. Their previous fights had always had an air of brutality to them, particularly when they got physical. It was like he and Eren were potassium and water; doomed to explode when mixed together.

This time however, there had been a certain tenderness folded in so seamlessly that it could be mistaken for rage. The press of Eren’s knuckles against his collarbone as he gripped his shirt, an unmistakable electricity in the air like a hot summer night before a storm…

Perhaps it had been that the wiry, barely-contained energy that Eren always seemed to emit was focused solely on him for once, rather than directed outward at a mysterious universal force that only Jaeger seemed to perceive. That energy was, Jean supposed, what drew others toward him despite his somewhat caustic personality and nigh-pathological determination. He presence _sparked_ others, drove them to achieve better whether they recognized it consciously or not.

Jean was loath to admit it, but he was not above the influence himself. With a shake of his head, he turned back towards the Aquatic Center.

_No way am I gonna be late because of him. He can risk Levi’s wrath all he wants, but I’ve got a scholarship to win._

 

* * *

 

Coach Levi was, in fact, still pissed about their actions during the meet. Jean could feel his ears burning as he shuffled away under the shadow of a disdainful glare.

_I guess it could have been worse. He could’ve kicked me off the team for real, right? Instead I’ll just have to swim laps until I die._

He privately hoped that Eren’s absence would reflect favorably on him, though he didn’t go so far as to believe that he wouldn’t ever return. The kid was about as stubborn as he was impulsive, after all.

He spied Mikasa out of the corner of his eye. She was making a beeline for him, her feet slapping authoritatively on the deck. Jean quickened his pace in, but she managed to corner him outside the family locker room.

“Where’s Eren?” She demanded. “He was right behind us but Armin said he hasn’t seen him since we got out of the car.”

Jean cleared his throat nervously and gave a helpless shrug. While close contact with Mikasa was generally a plus, he didn’t think she’d take the news of their fight well.

“I dunno, he ran off somewhere,” he mumbled, trying to push past her to get to his lane.

She blocked his path, eyes narrowing.

“What did you say to him?”

“I didn’t say anything!” Jean snapped, though he knew that wasn’t entirely true. The frustration that had been stewing inside him all day was finally frothing over. _It’s like I’ve managed to fail to live up to everyone’s expectations, only no one told me what they were in the first place! First Levi, then Eren, now this._

“Look, I don’t know what his problem is, okay? Maybe you should ask HIM. We were just teasin’ each other like always and then he got all weird and ran off.” _So it’s out of my hands now._

If Mikasa was startled by the sudden outburst, she didn’t show it. She merely blew out a long breath and pursed her lips.

“Alright. Thank you.”

“Um, I’m sure he’s fine though,” Jean added reflexively, hoping it might change the flat, steely look on her face. _A smile? Relief?_ “Like, he probably just needs to cool off, ya know?”

_Shut up, you’re babbling. Also, since when do you “know” anything about Eren Jaeger, other than he’s a loudmouth asshole. You basically just told her you didn’t give a shit, for crying out loud! Don’t you dare let her make you feel guilty about this._

“Yeah,” Mikasa replied in the same unaffected monotone. “I guess I worry too much,” she muttered half to herself, as she turned away. Jean’s gut twisted despite his previous resolve, but he ignored it and chose to throw himself into the workout instead.

He was so focused that barely noticed when Mikasa was called out of practice twenty minutes later. The incident had faded so far from his mind that it wasn’t until he was halfway home that he realized that she hadn’t returned.

Jean shivered as the chilly fall wind pierced his hoodie. He cursed himself for not bringing a warmer coat for the walk, settling instead for turning up the volume on his headphones as if the music could keep him warm.

Something caught on the toe of his sneaker and he tripped. Looking down he saw shattered glass, and small, miscellaneous bits of metal. There was even a dark patch on the road- blood? The whole scene had an eerie feeling of desolation; the ghost of an accident lingering after the initial crash. It sent another shiver down Jean’s spine, though this time it had nothing to do with the temperature.

 

* * *

 

Mikasa sat under the harsh fluorescent lights, her head throbbing.

_Again. Again. Again._

The white linoleum tiles done up to look like marble, combined with baby blue walls, and the susurrating footsteps of nurses rushing to and fro in their scrubs leant to the impression that she was in some sort of twisted, fever-dream version of heaven.

_No matter what I am not letting go. I will drag him back down to Earth by his ankles, I swear..._

Every time a monitor beeped she wanted to fly down the hallway like an avenging angel, find the nearest doctor, wrap her fingers around his throat and squeeze until she got some information out of him.

_Maybe then they’d understand how it feels. The waiting._

Mikasa’s fingers brushed against her neck self-consciously, where her scarf usually sat.

_Maybe Grisha will be back soon?_

Her foster father had rushed off what seemed like hours ago, in the hopes that he could use his standing at the hospital to pull a few strings, figure out where Eren had ended up in the maze of the Emergency Department.

_On the phone they said he was still in surgery…_

Mikasa gently pushed that thought away from her like it was a balloon filled with acid. Instead, she focused on the hard, plastic ridges of the chair against the back of her legs; the slow numbness settling into her rear from sitting so long.  

_How could this happen?_

One moment she was at practice, the next she was clutching the phone in Levi’s office as the world crashed down around her. Grisha’s voice snaking through the line, telling her that there’d been an accident…

_Everything will be fine,_ she told herself.

A gun glinting cold in the moonlight, her mother’s arms outstretched towards her hiding place.

Karla’s voice, ragged as old parchment.

“Watch out for Eren for me.” 

_I can’t do this again._


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept going back and forth on whether or not to make this section one chapter or two separate, shorter ones, but I decided I've tortured you guys enough (judging by the comments). So I won't make you wait an extra week ;) 
> 
> Have some post-Valentines day angst.

_Jean lay absolutely still, Marco’s breath tickling the back of his ear. One hand rested tentatively on his hip, like a bird ready to fly away at any moment._

_“Are you sure your parents aren’t coming home soon?”_

_Marco hummed an assent, sending a puff of air scurrying down his neck._

_“They’re going to my Aunt Kathy’s for dinner, so we’ve got at LEAST three hours. And that’s assuming they don’t get too drunk to drive. We could have all night.” He gave the hip he was holding a squeeze._

_Jean didn’t need to crick his neck around to know that Marco was grinning- it always showed in his voice. He nuzzled into Jean’s neck, tugging lightly on his side in an attempt to turn him around, but he resisted._

_“Why don’t you just tell them? That we’re, y’know…”_

_His back grew suddenly cold as Marco sat up with a frustrated sigh._

_“You know why.”_

_Jean finally rolled over, propping up his head with his arm. Marco had scooted to the other side of the bed, his back pressed against the wall._

_“Yeah, you’re scared.”_

_Marco scowled; a rare expression of displeasure that didn’t fit his face, scrunching his features like a sweater that had shrunk in the wash._

_“It’s not as simple as that! I’m graduating next year, remember? If my parents don’t support me, there’s no way I can pay for school. Now I know your dad still has issues, but you don’t even live with him. At least your mom-”_

_“But YOUR mom’s super nice.”_

_“She’s the one who wants me to go to a Catholic college so I can meet a nice girl and have 20 grandkids for her to spoil. Point is, I can’t risk sacrificing my future, even if it means I have to stay in the closet for four more years,” he finished bitterly._

_Protests bubbled up behind Jean’s lips, building pressure like a shaken soda can._

I’m tired of sneaking around _, he wanted to say._ I went through all the stress and pain of coming out to my family; Dad still can’t quite look me in the eye, but now that things have stabilized I want to enjoy the benefits. With you.

_But the look of abject exhaustion on Marco’s face stopped him; hollow-eyed with skin taut around his mouth. With a sigh, he sat up and pressed a hesitant kiss onto the other boy’s forehead._

 

* * *

 

“I’m home!” The door banged shut behind him as Jean kicked off his shoes. The cramped apartment was already filling with the scent of home-made spaghetti sauce, making his mouth water.

“How was practice?” His mother called from the kitchen. “Did you ask your coach for that letter of recommendation yet?”

Jean winced. A half-completed application to the elite Trost University was still saved somewhere on his computer. The deadline was fast approaching, but ever since the whole relay debacle, Jean thought it best not to press his luck.

_Besides, I gotta make sure everything is exactly right. That I’ve checked all the boxes- community service, extra-curriculars, AP classes but also something in the arts so that I look well rounded…And swimming. They don’t give out athletic scholarships to just anyone._

He gave a non-committal grunt in response to his mother, and crept up the stairs before she had a change to interrogate him further. Only once he was safely within the confines of his room could he relax.

Jean flopped down on his bed, glaring at the battered laptop sitting docilely on his nightstand. A reminder of all the work he still had left to do before his college dreams became a reality.

_I don’t want to think about that right now. Time to relax post-workout._

_Hell, I don’t want to think about swimming PERIOD. Once practice is over, I’m out of the pool, and it’s done. Else I’ll turn into Eren. Stupid obsessive bastard probably sleeps in his trunks._

The memory Eren’s wild, heated face during their argument surfaced at the thought.

_Fuck._  

He considered texting Mikasa to ask if he’d calmed down at all, but his fingers danced over the keys; hovering indecisively over one letter after another, before he finally shoved his phone back into his pocket.

_Why the hell was he acting so weird in the first place? I can understand the baseline pissy-ness; especially after the pressure Levi put on us, but he’s never gone off on me like that before. Not without a reason, anyway._

Jean rolled over onto his back. Trophies from years passed stared down at him from crowded shelves on the walls adjacent to his bed. He’d tried to shove some of the older, more embarrassing ones into a box in the attic but his mom always found a way to put them back up.

_Was it really something I said?_

He scoured his brain for anything out of the ordinary.

_Teased him about showing up in the first place, implied that the disqualification was his fault- sure that must’ve stung but he would’ve done the same if our positions had been reversed…_

_“What’re tryin’ to do anyways, punch me or kiss me?”_

Fireworks went off in his head. Enormous, fiery explosions of color that spelled out “YOU’RE A FUCKING MORON”.

The disproportionate rage and lack of personal space, coupled with the sudden panicked flight, all pointed to Eren’s version of a big, gay meltdown.

A few years ago Jean might have laughed himself sick at the thought, but now he was just confused.

_He looked so… scared?_

He remembered how much his own hands had trembled, how he’d had to spit out the words like they were burning him so he wouldn’t have time to change his mind.

_And now he’s probably beating himself up about it. Or he thinks I’m even more of a giant asshole._

“Ahh shit,” He breathed aloud. He punched Eren’s number into his phone with swift, violent jabs of his finger, but of course his call went straight to voicemail.

_So much for a relaxing evening at home,_ Jean thought as he slung his coat over his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

  _He was floating, weightless; his limbs suspended in something heavy and dark. When he tilted his head upward, he could see silvery light filtering through. Fractured, like he was underwater. He tried to kick towards the surface, but the substance was too thick to allow purposeful movement. Instead he was buffeted gently back and forth, like a raft lost at sea._

_“Eren?”_

_He not so much heard the voice but FELT it reverberating in the space, reduced to muffled, cottony vibrations._

_Where…_

_He found he was too tired to form complete thoughts; each one drifted in and out of his consciousness, a passing stranger on the street. It would take too much effort to follow one to its logical conclusion, so instead he just watched them go. Brief blips of awareness that were soon lost in the dark._

_Missing?_

_An emptiness gnawed at him, like a task half-forgotten. He tried to listen to his own breathing, but the only sound was the fading echo of the voice._

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was a long walk to Eren’s house, but Jean didn’t feel like trying to explain to his mother why he needed that car, let alone dealing with her reaction.

_“Eren Jaeger? It’s been YEARS! I thought you didn’t get along. Which is a shame, because you two used to play together all the time, remember? Such a nice boy. Tell him I said ‘hi’. Mikasa too. Those poor kids, losing their mother like that…”_

Yeah, he was going to skip on the gushing and the awkward questions for now. Besides, he could certainly use some time to clear his head.

_Maybe this can be the one time I’ll actually think before I act._

Jean realized that perhaps the opportunity for that had passed, since he was already out the door and well on his way. He heaved a heavy sigh and kicked at a tuft of grass growing along the sidewalk.

_I don’t even know how I feel about all of this. It’s just a bit much to take in right now I guess. Especially after that whole business with Marco at the beach._  

He quickly pushed away memories of teeth dragging across skin, warm hands pressed against his waist after so long…

“That’s over,” he grumbled aloud. _I can’t keep picking at the same old scab._

_But what about Eren?_

“He’s a righteous dickwad who can’t keep his mouth shut!” A stray cat looked up, alarmed, from its perch along a neighboring fence. Jean scrubbed his hands furiously through his hair.

  _Where the hell did this even come from anyways? We’ve spent most of our lives trying to out-douche each other. Is this some sort of kindergarten romance where he shows that he likes me by being really obnoxious?_

He snorted derisively, but the heat rising in his cheeks told another story.

_The whole situation is ridiculous. What if I’m completely wrong about him in the first place? It’s not like I’m some genius at reading people. Marco and Mikasa’d be the first to agree. Then I’d wind up making an even bigger ass of myself. How do I even go about asking? “Hey man, don’t take this the wrong way, but it seems like you have a crush on me”? That doesn’t sound vain or anything._

Lost in thought, Jean hadn’t noticed that he’d nearly arrived. After so many years, he’d been expecting some sort of huge change, but Eren’s house stood at the end of the block as usual. The lawn looked a bit weedier than he remembered, and the paint on the shutters was faded and beginning to peel, as if they hadn’t been painted since the last time he’d been over, but otherwise everything was exactly the same. 

_We used to hold the end-of-season parties on the front lawn, back when we were still with Coach Ral. Eren’d always come up with some stupid game but we’d all go along with it anyways, running around pretending to be aliens or explorers or some shit, because he could tell a pretty good story. Make us almost believe we were all on Mars._

He stepped up onto the wide porch, recalling sun-warmed grass under his feet and the taste of lemonade. His finger hovered over the doorbell, but a cold sweat was breaking out on his neck, insides turning to mush. He took a deep breath, then turned away.

_I was wrong. Marco’s not the coward, I am._

Jean dragged his feet the whole way home, but he didn’t dare look back.

 

* * *

 

Once he’d reached the safety of his bedroom, Jean finally broke down and whipped out his phone.

Sasha picked up on the third ring.

“What is it this time, Jeanny? Don’t tell me you’re here to talk about your boy problems again.”

He merely scowled into the receiver as he closed the door so his mom couldn’t eavesdrop.

“Seriously?!” Sasha squawked, correctly interpreting his silence. “Dude, you really gotta let Marco go. He’s all toned ‘n freckly ‘n tan ‘n all but-”

“It’s not about him,” Jean snapped. He was already beginning to regret this decision. “Look, it’s complicated. Why don’t you meet me at Taco Palace after practice tomorrow so we can talk about it in person?”

_God, I’m so pathetic. And whiny._

Sasha paused on the other end. “I dunno, Connie said he was coming over later to marathon the original Star Wars trilogy. Apparently it’s ‘a necessary part of my cinematic education,’” Jean could almost hear the air quotes.

“I’ll buy you a Grande Burrito.”

“With extra queso?”

He made a noise of protest in the back of his throat before finally caving.

“Dammit, fine! With extra queso.”

“Deal.”

Jean threw his phone down on the bed with an exaggerated sigh. He still had a Bio test to study for and an English paper due later in the week, but he knew trying to concentrate on anything at this point was useless. Instead he stuffed in his earbuds and turned the music up loud enough to rattle his bones.  

 

* * *

 

“Eren?” Mikasa whispered. She rubbed at the grit in her eyes just to be sure, but no, the body lying in the hospital bed hadn’t moved.

_What time is it?_ She wondered idly. It was too much effort to turn her head around to look at the clock hanging over the door. Besides, the hospital had a funny way of playing with time. She’d been sitting in the waiting room for _hours_ before Grisha had come and gotten her, explained that Eren had finally come out of surgery and that his injuries, though severe, were ultimately survivable. That moment now had a hazy, faded quality to it; as if it had happened years ago.

_I even feel older. Ancient, even._

Mikasa tilted her head to crack her neck, which had started to ache. Her shoulders and neck were starting to tense too, from hunching over.

_These chairs are so uncomfortable. They clearly weren’t designed to be sat in for long periods of time. Which is silly. What else would they be for?_

Eren moaned softly, snapping her back to attention immediately.

“Can you hear me? Are you in pain?”

No response.

_The doctor’s said he’d suffered a pretty good concussion, so he might not wake up right away from surgery. And when he does it would be normal for him to be extra groggy. It’s fine._

Mikasa fought the panic that was stating to claw its way up her throat. All the doctors and nurses, even Grisha, were taking this so calmly. Talking in measured, sensible tones at the foot of the bed, while all she wanted to do was scream at the sky until her throat was raw and throw things at the blank white walls until someone put Eren back together. She’d do it herself, piece by piece if she had to.

Her phone buzzed anxiously in her pocket.

_Annie again._

Mikasa traced the outline of the keys with her finger before decisively shutting it off.

_I have more important things to worry about right now, rather than burdening people with my feelings._

She leaned over to brush a stray lock of hair off of Eren’s forehead, studiously avoiding glancing down the length of the bed. The uneven distribution of his body under the sheets made her feel like she was a small child again, sitting breathless in a closet while robbers tore her home apart.

Instead, Mikasa squeezed his right hand; the one not currently held together with pins and plaster.

“We are going to be okay, I promise,” She murmured into his ear.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah sorry for the delay! I had the whole thing written up but I completely forgot to post it -_-

The world was made of warped glass; semi-opaque, bubbling up and whirling off in unexpected directions. Sharp stabs of pain pierced through the cottony confusion, a sign that this was reality. The air had a stale, rubbery quality to it.

He cracked open his eyes, then immediately closed them against the sudden influx of light and the associated nausea.

“Eren!”

He tried to say “Mikasa,” but all that came out was a rusty groan. His lips were so dry, he thought they might split in two if he tried to open his mouth any further.

“Don’t try to talk,” She admonished. Eren heard the rustle of fabric, then the soft splash or running water. It felt as if his head was hovering a few feet above his neck; attached by a thin tether. He could float away at any moment.  

_Where am I?_

“’M gonna miss my race,” Eren croaked, forcing his eyes open again. All he could see was the ceiling, stippled white. “Where’s the pool?”

_If only it wasn’t so bright…_

Mikasa drew a ragged breath, like she was trying to get a hold on her emotions.

_That’s silly, Mikasa never cries._

“Here, drink this. Small sips.” A cup materialized under his nose.  She was staring resolutely down at her feet.

_She doesn’t want to look me in the eye?_

“Gotta stay hydrated or Levi’ll yell at me,” he muttered sagely. Something about this fuzzy new world wasn’t making sense, but Eren also felt the pull of sleep; swift and strong as a black tide.

He tried to tell Mikasa to wake him up before his event, but he wasn’t sure he got the words out before the waves rolled in and overtook him.

 

* * *

 

The second time, he awoke with a gasp of pain and a curse. His father’s face appeared above the bed, like he was four years old and had just awakened from a nightmare.

“How are you feeling, Eren?” He clutched a coffee cup in one hand, knuckles standing out bone-white.

“Hurts.” His whole body was a mass of raw nerves; too many signals and sensations for his groggy brain to categorize all at once.

“You’ll be due for more pain medication soon. Do you remember what happened?” There was a tense quality in his father’s voice, stretched tight like a rubber band, that put him on edge.

Eren bit his lip, feeling the oxygen tube under his nose shift as he did so.

“I was at practice…”

_Oh God, Jean. We had a fight. I ran off, and then_

“You were in a car accident.” The unanswered question hovered in the air- What were you doing out in the street when you should have been in the pool?

_Shoes slapping against concrete, head down, a horn blasting…_

“How long do I have to stay here?” Eren suddenly felt very small. He remembered the long months Karla had spent, in and out, and right back in again; until the whole family had memorized the hospital’s floorplan, right down to the garbage can placement in the cafeteria.

“Your injuries are very serious, Eren,” Grisha continued, each word catching in his throat. “I hate to say this, but I’m afraid-”

_What’s with my leg? Why can’t I…_

Alarm bells were ringing louder and louder in his head. The persistent sense of _wrong_ that had been plaguing him around the pain, brief scenes from his drug-induced haze flitting through his consciousness. Eren struggled to sit up, but his father grabbed his shoulders, wrapping him in an awkward half-embrace, taking care to avoid the bulky bandage that swathed his arm.

“Let me go!” He screamed.

“Please, calm down. I was hoping to cushion the blow, so that this wouldn’t come as such a shock, but clearly-”

“It’s gone, isn’t it?” Eren felt his body grow cold. A numbness creeping down his back like ice water. “I want to see.”

Grisha bowed his head but inched aside.

“I want you to know that the surgeons tried everything, but you’d suffered several traumas and a dangerous amount of blood loss. That, coupled with the level of contamination in the wound… ”

But Eren wasn’t listening. He was staring, fixated, at the empty spot just below the knee where the rest of his left leg should have been.  

_This can’t be happening._

He blinked furiously; as if this could possibly be a mirage or hallucination. That he’d wake up, wiggle his toes under the blankets, and roll back over to sleep. 

Grisha droned on in the background, but Eren couldn’t even comprehend what he was saying anymore. The ocean was roaring in his ears, freezing spray filling his chest, stealing air.

“Fortunately, they did manage to save your arm. It’s going to take a lot of hard work and rehabilitation, but you should regain full function.”

Greyness was fast encroaching, shrinking his field of vision down to two pinpricks; one a healthy, normal kneecap, the other a cliff jutting out into space. A sick, cold sweat erupted at the base of his neck.

“I’m so sorry.” Grisha squeezed his hand. “Can I get you anything?”

_I think I’m gonna be sick._

Eren lay back against the lumpy hospital pillows and bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from screaming. He shook his head, tears beginning to clump on his lashes.

“Where’s Mikasa?” He finally managed to grit out.

His father blew out a long, shaky, breath. “I sent her back to sleep in her own bed. She only agreed because I told her she could miss school to come visit you in the morning.” A weak chuckle.

“I want to go home.”

“Let’s take things on a day-by-day basis, alright? A lot of this depends on how well you progress with the therapy. We also have to watch out for infection, which could affect your recovery time.” Grisha made it all sound so normal, so blasé; as if teenage boys lost their legs all the time. It was odd hearing his father’s voice through the filter of a medical professional, like he’d slipped out of his role as Dad and into that of a doctor.

Eren wasn’t sure which he preferred. The blank, clinical tone was almost soothing; a dispassionate background noise for his overwhelmed brain. His thoughts hummed around like drunken bees, swerving violently around the fact that his life had been irrevocably changed.

_Can we both ignore this too? Act like it’s happening to someone else so we can just get on with our day? As long as we don’t look each other in the eye, we can pretend that it’s not there._

_Cuz that worked so well with mom._

At the same time, every muscle in his body ached. There were tubes everywhere; snaking in and out of his arms, under his nose. He didn’t want to think about the one taped to his thigh, which would explain why he didn’t have an urgent need to use the bathroom. He was connected to machines that would beep and whir in a language he couldn’t understand. Eren had woken up in an alien world; even his own body had warped into something unfamiliar.

“Please don’t leave.” The words slipped out, unbidden; no doubt aided by a hearty dose of painkillers.

“Of course not!” Grisha sounded surprised and hurt in equal measures. “Why don’t you try to go back to sleep? I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Eren settled back against the lumpy mattress and closed his eyes. Everything felt so surreal; as if he was watching this happen through a camera, or movie screen. Part of him still desperately hoped that he would wake up in his own bed the next morning, shaking his head at the bizarre dream he’d had.

Somehow he managed to drift off listening to the rhythmic sound of his father’s breathing.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM A HUGE JERK I KNEW WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN ALL ALONG IF YOU WERE THINKING THIS WAS GONNA BE A NICE FLUFFY FIC I AM SO SO SORRY
> 
> (But I do love all your comments, they mean the world to me even if you're just yelling at me for stomping all over your feelings <3)
> 
> Now let's keep the angst-ball rolling...

The next day arrived with weak light slanting in through the blinds, a dull, throbbing headache, and Mikasa’s face hovering over him.

He squeezed his eyes tight again, and cautiously kicked up at the blankets. A stab of pain shot up just below his left knee, but beyond that he couldn’t feel the starchy sheets or the rub of a hospital bootie against his heel.

_Still gone…_

“Eren? Is everything alright?”

_No, and it’s not gonna be. Ever._

He grunted, and swiped a hand over his face. His whole body felt sticky; covered in lay of old sweat, and in some places, dried blood. The drugs hovered on the periphery, a sickly, swoopy feeling whenever he tried to turn his head.  

“I-I’m glad you’re awake,” Mikasa faltered. She fiddled with the end of her scarf absentmindedly. It was beginning to fray.  Her eyes had taken on a glassy, exhausted look. “Do you want something to eat? It’s almost four in the afternoon.”

“Nah.” Just the thought of food made Eren’s stomach clench. “Wait, how long have you been here? Don’t you have-” His lips froze on the word _practice._

“That’s not important right now.”

“Are you kidding?!” Eren growled, a little more forcefully than he intended. As Mikasa’s eyes widened in surprise, he realized that he’d never manage to explain how practice was the _most_ important thing now that he couldn’t go. That he’d give _anything_ to listen to Levi berate the group, or freeze his ass off in the locker room, or do sets until he wanted to puke. Anything just to swim again.

“Hey.” Her fingers brushed his arm. “I’ll go back tomorrow if that’s what you want. But people are going to ask questions…”

_Jean, especially. And you wouldn’t be able to answer half of them._

He shook his head, throat too tight to speak. The tears that had been itching at the corners of his eyes finally spilled over; every dark, mangled emotion he couldn’t name bursting out like water escaping through a crack in a dam.  

Mikasa threw her arms around him, pressing her own damp cheek against his.

“You’re here and you’re alive. That’s what matters,” she whispered into Eren’s ear. “I can’t lose you too.”

 

* * *

 

_First Eren freaks out, then he and Mikasa miss practice- what the HELL is going on?_ Jean wondered as he shuffled back to the locker room. Levi hadn’t mentioned their absence, which in and of itself was odd; usually he’d interrogate the rest of the team until he learned of the missing person’s whereabouts.

_Unless they had a family vacation planned or something??_

Though judging from the vague, irritated comments Eren occasionally made about his father, Jean suspected that was an unlikely option.

Still preoccupied, he snatched a towel off the bench and began rubbing down his shoulders.

“Um, I think that’s mine.”

“Shit! Sorry, Armin. Here, use this one. It’s not all soggy yet.” he proffered his own towel, which had been hanging half-out of his bag as usual. Jean shook his head, amazed at his own idiocy.

The blond boy squinted, scrunching up his nose slightly. “Something bothering you?

“Do you know what’s going on with Eren and Mikasa?” Jean blurted out, before quickly scanning the locker room to make sure no one had heard him. Fortunately, Connie had his headphones on, and Reiner and Bertholt were locked in a towel-snapping competition. Or rather, Reiner was snapping his towel and Bertholt was half-heartedly flopping his against the floor, rolling his eyes at his more exuberant partner.

Armin’s expression darkened. “I didn’t think anyone else noticed. I have no clue what happened but it can’t be good.” He blew out a long breath, puffing up his damp bangs. “I tried calling both of them this morning to see if they’d give me a ride, but nobody answered. I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if Eren lost his phone or something, but Mikasa usually answers after like, the first two rings. What’s really worrying me though is that neither of them has told me what’s wrong.”

“Oh.” Jean’s heart sank. If the third musketeer was out of the loop, then he didn’t stand a chance.

“I’m gonna try again once I get home.” Armin paused for a moment, repositioning the contents of his backpack as the two boys headed for the door. “You wouldn’t happen to have a car, would you?” he asked hopefully. “I don’t mean to be a bother, but it’s kind of a long walk…”

“Sorry, today I’m-”

“Jean you’re finished, FINALLY. Let’s go, tacos await!” Sasha pounced as soon as he set foot outside the locker room.

_How did she change so fast? I thought girls were supposed to take LONGER._

He gave an apologetic shrug over his shoulder as she dragged him towards the parking lot. Armin looked like he was choking back laughter as he waved goodbye.

 

* * *

 

“Alright, you’ve torn me away from my beloved for an evening- granted an evening full of delicious, greasy, fast food- but you’ve been sitting there with a long, sad, horse-face this whole time, so spill.” Sasha leaned back and took a noisy sip of her drink.

Jean slouched further into the squeaky vinyl booth. He picked moodily at the foil wrapper around his burrito, running through various catastrophes that could have befallen the Jaeger family over the course of two days.

_Maybe his grandma died. Or a pet? I remember he wanted a dog. But then, even that wouldn’t cause him to miss practice. Stomach flu?_

“Hello?!” She waved a hand in front of his face. “What’s going on in that oddly shaped head of yours?”

“Aw dude, your fingers smell like hot sauce.” He flicked his straw wrapper at her.

Sasha dodged it with practiced ease.

“I’m waiiiiting. If it’s not Marco that’s been making you all goofy, then who?”

Jean sighed. No use dodging the issue any longer. He’d been the one to bring it up, after all.

“Eren,” he mumbled into a handful of chips, bracing for the reaction. 

Sasha did not disappoint.

Her mouth dropped open almost comically wide. “AM I HEARING YOU CORRECTLY?!” She pantomimed scraping wax out of her ears. “THE Eren Jaeger, constant pain in your ass and wet-willy giver extraordinaire?”

“Fuck you, I’m serious.” Jean gave a pained smile to the cashier, who was glowering in their direction. The tips of his ears were on fire.

“I can’t really explain it that well, but I think he has this awkward crush on me and-” He quickly related the story of the fight, and his subsequent attempt to contact Eren.

“Wait he liked YOU first?” Sasha scoffed incredulously.

“Look I’m _trying_ to ask you for advice, okay?” He hissed. “I’m desperate.”

She scrutinized him for a moment more, before her brows softened and she placed a hand over her mouth.

“Ohmigod you aren’t jerking me around. Ohhh honey. You’re are in so deep….”

“I’ve noticed,” Jean went back to dissecting his burrito. _Why can’t I have a normal fucking relationship for once? No hopeless pining, or sneaking around, or… Whatever the hell Jaeger and I have been doing the past eight years or so._

“I think you should go for it,” Sasha interjected with a loud _crunch_. Jean noted that what remained of his tortilla chips were now clenched tightly in her fist. She winked smugly and popped them in her mouth. “Like, itsh weird bu’ I c’n sorta shee it yanno?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. Were you actually raised by wolves?”

A satisfied gulp.

“Don’t try changing the subject on me! I know the whole thing with Marco was really rough, and honestly you guys were cute, but Eren has potential. The two of you fit together like…” She tapped her lower lip, “rye bread and peanut butter. It sounds kinda strange at first, but it’s actually pretty tasty.” 

Jean stared at her blankly.

“D-did you just compare me to a sandwich?”

“Shut up, that was a great metaphor.”

“Similie.”

“Whatever, the point still stands. I think at this point you either need to confront him about what’s going on and lay everything out on the table, or resign yourself to a life full of sexual frustration.”

Jean sighed, grabbing his tray now covered in wrappers.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Atta boy!” Sasha punched him in the thigh as he walked past. “Let me know how it goes.” His back was turned to her, but Jean was sure she was giving him a dirty wink.

 

* * *

 

Connie was picking up Sasha, which left him free to be alone with his thoughts as he strolled to his car. The parking lot was deserted save for an empty plastic take-out bag, rolling across the asphalt like a corporate tumbleweed.

_I can’t wait to get out of this dump._

It wasn’t the first time in his life that Jean wished he was a smoker, so he could light up a cigarette and squint philosophically over the roof of his car; smoke wafting past his lips just like in the movies where the outcast boy spouted deep, meaningful platitudes until he eventually won over the pretty but troubled girl and they became chain-smoking, poetic outcasts together.

_That’d fuck up my lungs though. ‘Sides it stinks._

He settled himself behind the wheel, but didn’t put the key in the ignition. Sasha’s optimism was quickly rubbing off.

_What if he’s been skipping practice to avoid me? He might not tell Armin about that… On the other hand, what if Sasha’s right- could we actually be happy together? Late-night phone calls, long walks on the beach sort of thing?_

The thought almost made him laugh out loud, but he muffled the sound with the back of his hand. Not that there was anyone around to see him cackling like a loon all by himself.

_I think Eren’s more the shove-you-against-a-wall type…_

“Crazy bastard,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Jean checked his phone one last time, though at this point it was more a formality. He was surprised to see Armin’s name flash across the screen.

_A voicemail? Nobody leaves those anymore._

“Hey Jean, it’s Armin,” an out of breath voice crackled through the speakers. “I still can’t get in touch with Mikasa and I’m getting worried. I was thinking we should go over to their house tonight and see what’s up. Or at least make sure it’s still standing?” There was a slightly hysterical edge to the joke. “Call me back.”

Jean revved the engine, as he sent back a quick text to let Armin know he was on the way. A steely dread was collecting in his belly.

_Can’t back down now. One way or another, we’re going to settle things._


	16. Chapter 16

Darkness had fallen by the time the boys were headed to the Jaeger household, so the streets were mostly deserted.  Armin drummed his fingers against the window until Jean cut him a sharp glance.

“Sorry,” he said with an anemic smile. “I really shouldn’t be so jittery. I’m probably just overreacting.”

This did not reassure Jean in the slightest.

His fears were realized as he turned into the driveway and spied Mikasa on the porch with her arms curled around her knees. With her face washed white in the fierce glow of the headlights, it was all too easy to see the blotchy redness circling her eyes and streaked down her cheeks.

She startled; a flash of pure vulnerability before she got to her feet, fists clenched. Armin was already fussing with the seatbelt, stumbling out of the car before it had come to a full stop.

_It looks like she hasn’t slept all weekend._

Jean hung back, suddenly unsure. He stood awkwardly where concrete met grass and fiddled with his keys. They were murmuring in low, urgent tones and he was _dying_ to know what was being said, but he felt like if he got any closer, he’d be treading on private, sacred, ground.

_I’m not part of their “family”. Hell, I’ve barely spoken to any of them since middle school. Maybe I don’t deserve to know._

The thought made him sick and uncomfortable. His palms were beginning to sweat.

_Something happened to Eren, I can tell just looking at Mikasa’s face. She’d never cry like that for anyone else._

Armin drew a hand up over his mouth, eyes expanding to two huge marbles. He half-turned towards Jean, motioning him over. Mikasa was staring at him, but she gave no sign of recognition.

“Eren’s in the hospital,” the blond whispered breathlessly. “He’s going to be alright but…” He chewed his lip before making some sort of mental agreement with himself to continue, “H-he lost his leg.”

The world spun dizzily on its axis, giving Jean the faint sensation that he was going to be seasick.

Eren was made up of cocky grins, and raw, sinuous energy. He shone like a comet, hurtling towards Earth at a million miles per hour, shrouded from mortality by sheer confidence. Jean couldn’t reconcile that with an image of him lying helpless in a hospital bed.

“When-” he choked out, but he already knew the answer.

“Sunday afternoon,” Mikasa answered robotically, as if that had been a long time ago and not just the day before.

_It’s my fault it’s all my fucking fault. I drove him away. I pushed too hard with my giant asshole mouth I wasn’t thinking, didn’t even cross my mind what might have actually been going on inside his head. What he was REALLY struggling with. I could have helped him we could be happy right now oh god._

_They’re never gonna forgive me._

“You were the last person to see him before the accident.” Mikasa’s face was a stone mask, free of any emotion or accusation.

_She’s probably deciding if she wants to cut my throat now or wait until we’re alone._

Armin cocked his head expectantly. Jean became aware that he was breathing heavily, panting almost. Odd, he still felt like he couldn’t get enough air.

_I have to get out of here._

“I-I’m sorry. I should probably-” Jean jerked backwards, his knees suddenly working again. He lunged towards the front seat, but a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

 “You came to my house.” It was a statement, not a question, though there was a note of curiosity in her voice. 

_And clearly that was a mistake._

“I was worried,” he growled.

“About Eren?”

“And you! I talked to Armin,” he shot a nervous glance at the blond boy, “and uh, we both thought we should…”

“Maybe you thought wrong,” Mikasa answered coolly. Armin looked at her in surprise. “This isn’t your business alright? It’s a private, family matter. We’ll deal with it on our own.” Her mouth was set in a thin, straight line. “Don’t go spreading rumors around the team either. It’ll be the last thing you’ll ever do.” She started stalking back towards the house; her eyes still locked somewhere far away.

“Wait, Mikasa!” Armin protested. He shrugged helplessly at Jean. “I don’t think she’s meant that, um, clearly she’s under a lot of stress…” He was already following her, his body twisted sideways so he could face Jean. “But I should probably talk to her…alone?” Armin pressed the tips of his fingers together, begging for understanding.

Jean waved him away, watched as the two figures disappeared into the darkened house, then gave his tire a resounding kick.

_And that’s what I get for my concern. A fuck-you-very-much and a door in my face, reminding me I don’t belong._

He drove aimlessly for about half an hour, until the hot anger faded into something more bitter and sad.

_She’s right. Here I was thinking that Eren might have been missing practice because he was moping over me. How selfish can you get?_

_After all, Eren and Mikasa have been basically inseparable since she came to live here, and that was when we were what, eight? And she never said what happened to her birth parents, so it musta been pretty fucked up. I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now._

_Or Eren, for that matter._

He squinted down at his foot on the gas pedal, trying to mentally erase the sensation of his muscles contracting as he pressed down, or even the subtle pressure of his toes touching one another inside his shoe.

_What if I could’ve done something to stop him? Or at least tried to chase him down. Then I could at least defend myself._

Another slick wave of guilt washed over him; compounded with the dregs of adrenaline that had fueled him earlier, he suddenly felt jittery, nauseous, and tired all at once.

_None of this seems real. It’s like the whole world’s shifted into some sort of bizarre parallel universe, but I got left behind._

Jean pinched himself hard in the side. A childish move, but the sharp sting grounded him, and brought an airy clarity.

_What if Eren’s alone right now? Sitting in a strange bed, confused and hurting? My face might be the last one he wants to see right now, but maybe this is the only way I can make up for what I did._

Curses streamed from Jean’s lips as he hurtled towards the hospital.

 

* * *

 

A hefty dose of morphine left Eren too groggy to focus on anything in particular, but not quite tired enough to fall asleep. He listened idly to the beeping of various monitors and the quiet shuffling of the night nurses up and down the halls. Grisha was snoring softly in the chair next to him.

With a clumsy hand, he swiped at the stack of papers the doctor had left on the bedside table earlier; brochures of smiling people strolling across ungodly greens lawns, or playing basketball with their prosthetic limbs. There were no pools in evidence.

_She said I can even get my stitches removed in about a month, and after that another month before I get fitted for a peg leg, and up to TWO months after that before I can even start walking without crutches. And even after all that, she said that the stump usually shrinks and shit during that time, so most people don’t get a permanent prosthesis until almost a year later._

A hot lump welled in his throat.

_The end-of-season party is in June…_

Grisha stirred with a groan and a loud crack of his neck. Eren quickly shoved the papers back on the table and folded his arms across his chest, tilting his chin back in what he hoped was a nonchalant pose.

_Just gotta stay focused, get through all this physical therapy crap and move on with my life. Can’t let an injury mess with my headgame. I don’t need people hovering around me all the time, making sure I’m “dealing”, but Dad n Mikasa don’t seem like they’re gonna stop anytime soon. So I gotta prove myself. I’m strong enough to handle this._

His father let out a jaw-splitting yawn, followed by a sheepish smile. “I think it’s time I get a cup of coffee…” He hesitated, as if exiting the room without Eren’s permission would constitute a betrayal of some sort.

“And?” _You never had a problem leaving me alone before._

A brief flash of irritation crossed Grisha’s face but he stifled it in an instant, reverting back to a neural expression. He turned to go, then paused with a frown.  

Eren was about to snap at him to _go get his damned beverage already,_ until he too noticed the sound of running footsteps growing louder.

_What the-_

A disheveled head poked around the door.

Jean was fidgeting with his hands, casting nervous glances over his shoulder as if he’d dodged a few security guards on the way. When he caught sight of Eren lying in the bed, he startled; like someone had just slapped him awake.

“Err, hey.” Jean coughed weakly, still standing with one foot in the hallway. His skin was gradually losing color and he swayed slightly, his hand latched around the doorframe for support.

Eren felt his newfound confidence slowly leaking away, replaced by a caustic mix of shame and anger.

_He got so pale, God I must really look like shit. Is that all he sees now? A fucking cripple in a hospital bed- someone to be pitied?_

“Why the fuck are you here?” He blurted out.

Grisha raised an eyebrow in surprise, but said nothing. He merely took a few steps forward, like a gangly, bespectacled bouncer.

Jean opened and closed his mouth, fish-like in confusion. “I ummm wanted t-to apologize? And maybe talk about…” His eyes slid to Eren’s father, “what happened the other day?”

Eren balled the sheet in his fists. He knew that he should be _glad_ Jean went to all that effort to come see him (Lord knows how he even found out in the first place), but a dark, irrational part of him whispered that were it not for the confrontation in the parking lot, neither of them would have to be here.

“Oh so you’re sorry NOW,” he spat. “It’s a little late, don’t you think?”

Jean’s whole body recoiled, like a cat who’d been thrown feet-first into a bathtub. “I-I didn’t want-”

“Perhaps you should leave,” Grisha intoned. He reached a hand out to shut the door.

“I didn’t want you to be alone!” Jean spun on his heel, face reddening. Something wet glistened on his cheek, and then he was gone.

Eren slumped back down in bed with a sigh. His stump was beginning to throb steadily again. Grisha left muttering something about talking to the nursing staff about checking visitor badges, but not before giving him a quizzical look that meant he’d have some explaining to do later.

_I guess I’ve managed to fuck things up even more. Is there an award for burning your whole life down in less than three days?_

The emptiness of the room grew until it threatened to swallow him.

_If only I’d been paying more attention to the crosswalk._

_If only I hadn’t started that argument in the first place._

_If only the hand-off had gone smoothly._

_If only Jean’s face didn’t make my stomach tighten and heart beat faster; even now, after all this shit._

_If only…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that my tumblr url is stopblowingholesinmeship and you're welcome to stop by and chat!


	17. Chapter 17

By the end of his first week in the hospital, Eren was ready to scream. He figured the nurses were too, judging by the increasingly frustrated reminders not to get out of bed by himself. Apparently the cocktail of potent painkillers he was on, plus the fact he was short a leg, meant that he was a “high falls risk.”

“Remember your call bell is RIGHT HERE,” Sandra huffed pointedly, wagging it under Eren’s nose after the third time she’d caught him pacing his room. If the ungainly lunging across the small space could qualify as “pacing.”

“Mhmm.”

“Make sure you use it next time?”

“Yeah.”

Eren slowly counted down from one hundred after she left the room. He cocked his head towards the door, listening for the squeak of white sneakers, but all was quiet.

_My meds won’t be due for another hour…_

Soundlessly, he stretched his good leg out until it touched the floor. Still no noise from the nurses’ station. Using the bed frame for support, Eren hopped down to the end, where he could reach out one hand and lean against the wall.

With a fortifying breath, he shuffled himself forward, right arm flailing to keep balance. He pressed his shoulder harder against the wall to steady himself, then repeated the whole process until he reached the bathroom.

_As long as Dad doesn’t randomly decide to check in on me, I should be fine. Who knew there’d be benefits to him being such a fucking workaholic?_

Eren started the hot water running in the sink as he rummaged around the bathroom for a washcloth and soap. He paused one last time, just to make sure no one was coming, before shoving his head under the faucet. Eren scrubbed his face and hair as quickly as he could with only one hand, trying his best not to let the water run down his neck and soak the gown or his cast.

_Guess that’ll have to do._

He gave himself a brief once-over in the small, oval mirror above the sink.

_Still pale as fuck, though I hope that yellow tint is from the weird lighting in here cuz there’s no way I’m getting stuck in here even longer with jaundice or some shit. My eyes look like they’re all bruised underneath. Awesome._

He didn’t really want to get started on the state of his hair, which had a stringy, greased look to it despite the recent wash.

_I guess it’d look better if I took an actual shower, but there’s no way I’m having a nurse come in here to help with that. Plus, I dunno, it’d be weird to see it all exposed for so long._

He bumped his stump against his leg absentmindedly and shuddered. The rough sensation of gauze brushing his thigh always creeped him out; a reminder of the newly-minted dead space between his knee and the floor.

“Eren, what in the hell are you doing?”

He spun around with a curse, almost knocking himself off-balance.

_Who is it this time?_

Sheepishly, he emerged from the bathroom, hair still dripping. The whiteboard above his bed informed him in thick, black marker that his nurse for the day was in fact Sandra, and that he had physical therapy at two. There was a little smiley face next to that announcement. Eren shot the board a murderous glare before pivoting to face his therapist.

To his surprise, the man was looking UP at him from a wheelchair, eyes glittering with something like amusement.

“You can call me Pixis.” He extended a hand for Eren to shake. “I see you’ve taken it upon yourself to start your recovery on your own. Normally I’d appreciate such initiative, but I’m afraid the doctors have informed me that your left arm is held together with pins and plaster. Since it would be rather messy if you fell on it, I’m going to ask you to save your exertions for when you’re with me. Can you do that?”

“Umm-” The morphine really wasn’t helping his processing speed.

The man was bald as a cue ball, but his face broke into a mass of wrinkles when he grinned.  

“Transport’s on their way with a chair for you. Usually they’ll just bring you down to my office, but I like to come meet my patients on their own turf the first time.”

“When can I start walking by myself?” Eren tried not to sound too distressed, so as not to offend him, but he hated the idea of having to sit uselessly while someone else pushed him around.

He must’ve done a poor job of hiding it, because Pixis tipped his head back and laughed.

“Don’t worry kid, I’ll have you up and running soon enough. I wanna wait on that arm though, make sure it’s stable enough to handle the stress before we hook you up with some crutches.”

“Oh. What about, y’know, a fake leg?”

“We’ll talk prosthetics in time. Today we’re gonna start the process- teaching you how to wrap up that stump of yours so we can get it down to the proper size and shape for fitting. You play sports?”

With a pang, Eren thought about the way the water slid over his body as he dove in, almost like it was opening just for him.

“I did.”

“Well this is a marathon, not a sprint.”

_And I never swam distance. Go figure._

 

 

* * *

 

A whistle blast cut through the sound of splashing limbs just as Jean reached out to grasp the gutter.

“Again,” Levi intoned, his eyes flickering briefly down to his wristwatch.

“But Coach, you said this was the last-” Connie protested between gasps for air.

“I said, AGAIN. You look more like turds floating in a bathtub than elite swimmers. Keep it up and you won’t leave this pool until conferences.”

A collective groan arose from the team, but they began the set once more; fearing Levi’s retribution far more than the aching joints they were sure to face in the morning.

_I don’t think I’ve seen morale this low since… Well, since Eren’s mom died._

He prodded Connie with his foot.

“What’re you waiting for, Levi to come over here and give us a personal invitation?”

“Why don’t you go first?” The other boy griped, draping himself dramatically over a lane line. “I thought you’d be all hot ‘n ready to take Eren’s place.”

“Fuck you,” Jean hissed. Rather than wait for a response, he pushed off the wall, kicking as hard as he could in the hopes he might at least splash Connie in the face. Try as he might, he couldn’t quite outswim the guilt that pulled heavy at his stomach, tying him down like an anchor.

_The whole team’s been off since Eren got injured. Levi’s even crankier, Annie’s been looking flat-out murderous, and even Sasha’s been acting a little wilted. I figure everyone has to know by now, even if Mikasa wanted to keep it quiet for a while. He’s kinda hard to miss…_

He thought back to the night in the hospital; how useless and inadequate he’d been in the face of Eren’s pain. How the hairs on the back of his arms had stood up at the mere sight of him lying defeated in bed. It wasn’t natural. Eren Jaeger was a creature of perpetual motion and raw nerves, not a sallow-eyed body wrapped in white sheets.

_Annnnd once again I wussed out. Stood out on the sidewalk filled with cigarette butts and old gum for half an hour, trying not to cry like a big fucking baby. I should have said something else, or stood up to his dad, or…_

Jean was still berating himself as he dragged his ass to the locker room, hoping Armin would be gone by the time he got there so he could avoid the limpid blue pity-stare.

“What’s this, Kirstein?”

Jean was so preoccupied that he’d almost walked straight past Levi, who was standing outside his office, an envelope in his outstretched hand.

“Oh, that’s um a scholarship application?” He’d forgotten that he’d slipped the paperwork for Trost University under Levi’s door a few days earlier, in one of his more optimistic moments.

“I’ll think about it.”

_Wait, you’re not going to laugh in my face or tear the envelope into tiny pieces?_

“You’ll make a half-decent swimmer if you manage to pull your head out of your ass. Keep working.” With that, Levi crossed his arms, a clear sign of dismissal.

If he’d said that a month, or even a week ago, Jean probably would’ve raced back to the locker room to gloat. Instead, he felt hollow; as if to celebrate his own accomplishments _now_ would be spitting in Eren’s face after what he’d been through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! (I know it's taking forever but these two idiots will get it together eventually, I swear)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's kinda short- I couldn't decide until the last minute whether I wanted to tack it onto the end of the last chapter or not. We're approaching the end, folks! I've got two more chapters planned out, and then maybe an epilogue/coda type deal. Happy reading! 
> 
> Visit my tumblr: stopblowingholesinmeship

The locker room was mercifully empty by the time Jean ducked inside. He decided to forgo changing in favor of a towel wrapped around his waist and a hoodie thrown over his bare chest. Fortunately Armin was nowhere in sight, and with a small sigh of relief he stepped out into the parking lot.

“Fuck!”

Jean nearly jumped out of his skin. A loud band, and a few more muffled curses later and he finally spotted Mikasa slamming her fist onto the hood of her car a few parking spaces away from his.

_I don’t think I’ve ever heard her swear before._

He dawdled on the curb, weighing the chances of her thanking him for his help against her biting his head off. After the Night of the Hospital Disaster, the odds were decidedly in favor of the latter.

“Just go, you stupid piece of-” The sentence ended in a garbled exhalation that sounded very much like a sob.

_Oh my God is she about to cry?_

Forgetting all sense of self-preservation, Jean darted over. On closer inspection, the area under Mikasa’s eyes was puffy and purpling from lack of sleep, and her cheeks were a blotchy pink. She took no notice of him as he approached; merely continued to beat at the battered van, punctuating each smack with a grunt of frustration.

“Car trouble?” He tried to keep his tone light, but there was a hint of a squeak in it.

Mikasa whirled around, the defeat in her face replaced instantly by anger as her nostrils flared. Tension radiated from her body like a coiled spring.

“What do you want?” She snapped.

_Stay calm, don’t lose your head…_

“This isn’t about… what happened last week, okay?” He held up his hands as if to show he was unarmed. “It’s family business, and I’m not welcome. Believe me, I get it.” Jean couldn’t quite suppress the bitterness in his voice, but Mikasa didn’t bat an eyelash.  “I just umm, well you’re kinda stuck here. Can I help?”

Her shoulders slumped back down as she seemed to collapse in on herself, like a marionette whose strings had just been cut.

“I don’t think so.”

“I could at least give you a ride! My car’s over there,” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

Mikasa chewed her bottom lip, clearly fighting some sort of internal battle before she finally gave a quick, decisive nod.

"Where're ya headed?" Jean hoped his question would distract her long enough for him to sweep a few errant Taco Palace wrappers from the passenger's seat, and stuff his mom's hot pink "lucky" rabbit's foot into the glove compartment.  

“The hospital. I promised Eren I’d visit after physical therapy today.” A pause. 

“They’re going to show us how to properly wrap his stump, so it can be molded into the right shape for a prosthetic.” She clarified, as if he'd asked for an explanation. 

Jean had one eye on the rearview mirror as he backed out, but he still noticed Mikasa clench her hands around her knees. He cleared his throat.

“So uhh, how’s he doing? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it though!” He added hastily.

_Nice going. You literally just said you weren’t going to pry into her business anymore._

To his surprise, Mikasa swiveled around in her seat to face him.

“How do you _think_ he’s doing?” She asked quietly. “All he talks about is swimming; asking me what sets we did at practice, who Levi’s eyeing for what events…”

Jean flinched. “Sorry.” His tongue had turned to lead. He blinked furiously to clear his vision, thankful that driving gave him the excuse to keep his gaze fixed on the road.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” Mikasa continued, drawing a shaky break. She was facing the window again, dragging her fingers in aimless circles on the glass. “I shouldn’t be complaining. Eren’s the one who got hurt, not me. I should’ve been there to protect him,” she muttered under her breath.

“That’s bullshi-”

“No, it’s not,” Mikasa said firmly. “He was there for me when no one else was, and I’ll always owe him for that.”

Jean opened his mouth to ask what exactly that meant, until he recalled the first few months after Mikasa’s arrival at the household-  when she was nothing more than a silent shadow at Eren’s shoulder; a dark-haired ghost with cracked lips and bruises on her wrist- and decided the topic was definitely off-limits.

“Doesn’t mean you’re some kinda machine,” He grunted instead. “What happened to Eren… It’s affecting all of us. Have you seen the team recently? Maybe not everyone knows what’s going on exactly, but they can _sense_ he’s missing.”

“Really?” Her voice was clotted with tears. “I guess it’s just hard watching everyone go about their business, like nothing’s wrong. Meanwhile I’m-” Mikasa gestured up towards her face, as if to say _a giant fucking mess._

_Believe me, I know what that’s like._

They drove in silence for a while. Jean had to resist the urge to pinch himself; Mikasa sitting next to him, revealing the emotion behind her stoicism was certainly surreal. In fact, he was pretty sure he _had_ dreamt this moment before, only he hadn’t felt so sick and knotted up inside, and the lighting was much more romantic. He thought maybe he should say something to her, or reach over and pat her shoulder, conveying his sympathies in a single touch. But she was perched so tensely on the edge of her seat, eyebrows furrowed, as if she might fly away at any moment.

“Annie says that I’m insensitive,” she interjected suddenly. “Do you think that’s true?” Mikasa was staring down at her nails, picking at miniscule flecks of dirt underneath them.

“Why’re you asking me?”

“You’re honest.”

Jean scratched the back of his neck, pondering what sort of crime he’d committed in a past life to deserve this punishment.

“I think you and Eren are more alike than most people realize,” he said finally. “You both have crazy laser-focus that blocks out everything else, even if there are other important things that need your attention. So, yeah you are kinda insensitive, but that’s because Eren’s accident is all you can think about right now. Can’t really blame you for that.” _It’d be pretty damn hypocritical if I did._

Mikasa nodded, apparently satisfied. At least her eyes didn’t look as red anymore.  With a sinking heart, Jean realized they were approaching the hospital. The helplessness itched at him like the red sweater his grandmother had given him for Christmas when he was seven.

“Look, I know you’re not the touchy-feely type, and to be honest I’m not either, but if you ever need to talk…”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Her reply was abrupt enough that Jean doubted she would even consider his offer. Mikasa paused, her hand clasped firmly around the door handle. She gave it a squeeze hard enough to turn her knuckles white.

“I really am sorry about the other night when you showed up with Armin. I didn’t believe you were… sincere after all the fights you and Eren have had over the years. I’m glad I was wrong.” And with a soft rustle of fabric, she was gone; leaving behind a faint sense of chlorine and a black frustration welling in Jean’s gut.

 _Of course!_ Jean wanted to scream. _He means more to me than anyone will ever know. Especially now that I’ve dicked everything up._

He thought he might after Mikasa, grab her elbow, spill confessions from his lips; but outside the bubble of his car she may as well have been on the moon. He settled for punching the steering wheel instead.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ft. Annie Leonhart, professional pity-party crasher

Eren stared at the three steps leading up to his porch. They were simple steps, made from wood in the halcyon days before his mother got sick; when she still had the energy to enjoy doing her own home improvement projects. He’d raced up and down them more times than he could count- late for school, late for practice, home after a long trip. They sagged in the middle now, a result of bearing so many feet over the years, but these innocuous little stairs were now Eren’s worst enemy. And they showed no sign of backing down.

He gritted his teeth and readjusted the crutched under his armpits, trying to remember Pixis’ tips for what he called “vertical navigation”.

“Do you need any help?” Mikasa hovered at his side, as if she feared he would fall at any minute.

“I can do it myself!” Eren snapped. He refused to look back at his father, who was undoubtedly looking on with pity from the front seat of the car.

Their eyes were hot on the back of his neck as he planted one crutch firmly on either side of the first step. He hopped up with barely a wobble.

_So far, so good._

It seemed like an eternity before he reached the front door, but Eren was finally inside, breathing air that smelled like home, rather than sanitizer and chemicals. The curtains were drawn to let in the maximum amount of sunlight, and a small vase of flowers had been placed on the living room coffee table. He felt his stomach sour.

_We used to do that for Mom whenever she came home._

 “What do you want for dinner tonight?” Mikasa clambered in after him. For a split second, jealousy washed over him as he watched her kick off her shoes with two casual movements. He hobbled over to the couch so he could sit and untie his laces.

“I don’t care. S’long as it’s not hospital food. Is Dad sticking around?”

“Of course! It’s your first night back. We all want to celebrate.”

Eren snorted. “So what, it takes one of his kids getting crippled for him to stick around?”

“That’s not funny.” She sat down next to him with a thump.

_Well it’s true…_

“What’s going on with you? I thought you’d be happy now that you’re finally out of the hospital,” Her head tilted as she scrutinized him. 

_I was supposed to be. But now I’ve gotta sleep in a room full of swimming trophies, and take showers sitting down, and listed to you bustle around in the morning before you leave for practice._

“Nothing,” He grunted. “Did you think my issues with Dad would just magically disappear through the power of Family Bonding Bullshit?”

_The nurse shifting her weight from side to side, asking if I had questions about “sexual activity”, telling me I can have a perfectly normal sex life, that I might have to be a bit more creative about positions, but she’s staring at her clipboard, making sure she’s checked all the boxes for discharge._

“Eren, the doctors said this is a very difficult transition. Anger is a common manifesta-”

“Yeah because they CLEARLY know what it’s like to have extra pairs of shoes lying around at the bottom of their closets. You’re talking like I’m some kinda textbook case, that you’ve got me all figure out but how about you stop hovering all the goddamn time and leave me alone?!”

Mikasa’s mouth snapped shut. She rose stiffly from her seat, without moving her torso, and stalked out on heavy feet. A minute later, her door slammed and he could hear her muffled voice.

_Probably talking to her GIRLFRIEND._

 

 

* * *

 

Sure enough, Annie showed up on their doorstep within the hour. Eren considered moving from the living room couch to the safety of his bed, but decided he wasn’t ready to face the towels that were surely still strewn about the floor.

“Mikasa’s down the hall,” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in what he hoped was a nonchalant gesture, while shifting a pillow over his stump.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m fine, seriously. I’ll probably show up to practice in a few days to say ‘hi’ to everyone.” The lie tasted rancid on his tongue.  

Annie’s face darkened faster than the sky before a tornado. “Cut the crap, Eren. Maybe Mikasa’s willing to put up with your bullshit, but I’m not. First of all, how _dare_ you speak to her like that- do you know how many nights she’s stayed awake worrying about you? How much she’s personally sacrificed? She even gave up her spot on the ‘A’ relay so she could spend more time at the hospital after school.”

“Mikasa never told me that!” Eren yelped, his face growing warm. “I didn’t _ask_ her to sacrifice anything. I’m not some burden she has to bear, okay? I’m sick of everyone treating me like I’m helpless. They can take their pity and shove it up their-”

_“_ Yeah, I know your life is shit right now, and you have a right to be pissed about it,” Annie cut in. She leveled him with the blunt stare that was rumored to make even her most iron-willed opponents start shaking on the blocks. “But that’s not the point. Mikasa’s so…” She shrugged, raising her hand in a fruitless gesture, “Closed- off?  She’s the type who’ll let themselves drown before they ask for a life raft. I was so mad at first, because I thought she was ignoring me, but I guess I didn’t realize how bad things had gotten for her.”

_She had to sit and watch me night after night, probably thinking about how we did the same exact thing with mom, and despite all the care we took she still died anyway. What if I hadn’t made it?_  Eren found his throat was uncomfortably dry.

“God, I’m such an asshole.”

Annie smirked. “Apology accepted. But if you ever pull something like that again, I’ll kick your ass- one leg or no,” She menaced him with her fist.

The burst of laughter that sprang out of him surprised them both, but it was the first time in over a month he felt _normal_ again.

“I bet I could take you right now,” he wheezed, smacking her shin with his crutches. “Let’s go, I’m serious!”

Anne responded with a playful punch to the gut, and when Mikasa arrived a few minutes later to see what all the commotion was about, she discovered the two of them sprawled on the floor and in tears of merriment.  She shook her head and went back to her room, a small smile playing on her lips.

 

* * *

 

Dinner was a surprisingly pleasant affair with his father actually plugged into the conversation instead of staring straight ahead, his mind still at the hospital. Annie decided to stay over, and watching the subtle way she’d look at Mikasa when she thought no one else was paying attention, or how Mikasa casually brushed her knee against hers and held it there reminded Eren that he still had one massive hurdle left to jump before he could spend his time home at peace.

_What am I gonna do about Jean?_

Once word about his injury had officially gotten out, he’d received an influx of flowers and get-well cards; mostly from the team, but even a few from kids he’d spoken two once or twice in class. Connie had even showed up at the hospital, dressed inexplicably in a Santa hat, bearing “gifts of good fortune,” which apparently consisted of two volumes of Aquaman comics, some chewing gum, and a potato with a smiley face drawn on it from Sasha.

Jean, of course, had been conspicuously absent in all the hullaballoo- not even a peep from Connie about how the season was going. Eren suspected he was avoiding the topic to spare his feelings, but it only left him feeling more disconnected from the community that he missed so badly.  

_Did he get put back in the relay? Who took my place? Has Levi warmed up at all or does he still glare at everyone like we’ve just kicked his puppy?_

_Does Jean still care?_

The thoughts ran round and round in his head like little mice; so loud that Mikasa had to kick him in the shins before he realized his father had asked him to pass the green beans three times already.

After the last plate had been cleared away and Annie and Mikasa had vanished off down the block, undoubtedly searching for a deserted park bench where they could hold hands and stare into each other’s eyes, or whatever girls did on dates, Eren finally ventured into his room. To his surprise, someone (likely Mikasa)  had been in to tidy up- the floor was relatively free of trash, and his dirty laundry had been folded and put away, though his desk full of scattered papers had been left untouched. He gingerly set his crutches against the wall and hobbled over to his bed, his sheets mercifully free of hospital starch.

A silver medal from last year’s conference meet dangled from his bedpost. Eren closed his eyes and willed away the _want_ in his chest that throbbed more fiercely than his stump did most days.

_One hurdle at a time, just like Pixus said. But where do I even start? There’s a lot of shit in my life that needs to be put back together._

His good leg dangled down over the side, his foot brushing something hard that had slipped underneath the dust cover. A pair of goggles. The ones he’d torn angrily from his head after the disqualification, and thrown down on the floor in disgust.

_I suppose that’s a good a place to start as any. Hell, I almost DIED- what more to a have to be afraid of?_

A manic grin crept over Eren’s features as he pulled out his phone to text Armin. What he needed most right now was a plan.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eren named the potato "Spud" and kept it on his nightstand until it got all weird and moldy and the nurses yelled at him.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's been almost a month since I updated, sorry about that ;-;  
> In other news, I had my last ever undergraduate class today, which (should) give me extra time to write!

_“It’s because we sent him to private school, isn’t it? Maybe if he had some girls around he’d stop with this nonsense.”_

_“Gary please, don’t be ridiculous!”_

_“Well why else do you think my son’s a-”_

_Jean slammed the front door, leaving the sound of his parents’ argument behind him. Heat rose from the blacktop in hot, sticky waves despite the oncoming evening._

Just four more years. _He repeated it to himself over and over, like a mantra until the words ran together and lost their meaning. Even so, college was a far-off speck on the horizon with freshman year looming at the end of the summer like a vulture circling a corpse._

I wish I hadn’t told them. I should’ve just kept my big, fat, mouth shut and gone to the eighth grade formal by myself like I was planning to. Now they’ve got one more thing to fight about. Fuck it, let ‘em get divorced.

_Lost in thought, Jean hadn’t realized that he’d made his way to his old elementary school playground. Dust rose in little puffs around his ankles as he crossed the tired diamond where he’d spent a few summers playing baseball, back before he started swimming full-time._

I asked Mikasa out right here last year, _he marveled as he passed the swing set, still standing in all its rusted glory. Jean glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then lowered himself onto the swing._

So much has changed since then… _He briefly wondered how Eren and Mikasa were doing, but pushed the thoughts away before he was flooded with uncomfortable memories from the funeral- Eren looking oddly shrunken for once, in a suit that was too big in the shoulders; Mikasa’s thousand-yard stare, like she was the ghost. How he couldn’t even meet their eyes, instead muttering his condolences to patent leather shoes before dragging his mom back to the car._

_A tiny part of him wished things were back the way they were in elementary school; when he and Eren talked with their mouths, not just their fists. Maybe then he’d have known what to say._

_A shout echoed across the empty park, and Jean looked up to see his father parked on the curb, irritated fingers tapping on the steering wheel. Apparently their conversation wasn’t over._

_“You know your mom and I love you very much.”_

_Jean choked back a sound that could’ve been either a snort or a sob. He slammed the door shut behind him, though the effect was muffled by the muggy air._

_“Just drive.”_

 

* * *

 

Jean reached up to wipe sweat that was beginning to drip into his eyes. The whir of the treadmill and the music blasting over the speakers almost drowned out the pounding of blood in his ears.  He knew he should give his body a break after swimming six days a week, but the need to burn off the sickly, nervous energy congealing in his stomach outweighed the risk of over-exertion.

_He’s only coming up for my birthday,_ he reminded himself, still shaking inside when he thought about his mother’s decision to invite his father for the festivities. And how, for some reason, his father agreed.

_She knows I don’t want to see him, and I don’t know why the hell he wants to see me. Probably because I’m single now and he’s hoping the whole ‘liking dudes’ thing was just a phase._

Jean was so caught up in his own thoughts, he almost didn’t notice his phone buzzing violently in the treadmill’s cup holder.

“Uhh, hey Armin. What’s up?” He panted out, a little too hastily to be casual. _Is everything okay?_

There was a rush of static on Jean’s end as the other boy sighed.

 “I hate to ask, but could you pick me up from the pool? I volunteered to help Coach Ral plan the conference meet since it’s our turn to host this year, and there’s so much to do it’s insane! I swear I called like, ten different t-shirt companies alone trying to find the best deal and-”

“What exactly do you need from me?” Jean rubbed his temples. _I am NOT cross-checking prices for warm-up jackets._

“I think Gramps forgot and went off to bridge club without taking me home first. He probably assumed I was at the library again.” Armin began muttering furiously under his breath, “That reminds me, I have a history test on Thursday, which means I should wait and start my English paper after the meet this week.”

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Jean cut in. “Just, take some deeps breaths, okay? You sound like your head's about to explode.” He snapped his phone shut, cutting off Armin’s slightly hysterical laughter.

_It seems like EVERYBODY’S falling apart these days._

 

 

* * *

 

The pool was an entirely different place when it was empty; a vast, dim cavern where what little light made it through the high windows played fitfully on the still water. Jean’s footsteps echoed on the tile. The blond boy was nowhere in sight.

_Did he duck out into the lobby as I came in? Maybe we missed each other…_

“Took you long enough to get here. I thought I was gonna fall asleep waiting.” The voice was about an octave lower than he was expecting.

“Son of a bitch!” He hissed as Eren appeared from the top of the bleachers. “What do you want?”   _Armin, wherever you are, you’re a raging asshole._

Green eyes crinkled as a cocky smirk spread across his face. The crutches bumped awkwardly against the aluminum benches as he descended. “I’ve got something to say.”

A thin sheen of sweat shone of his forehead as Eren navigated the transition onto the slick pool deck. Still, it was the first time in months that Jean could feel that raw, unwavering energy radiating off him.

“Oh yeah?” Jean tried to keep his tone light, but inside his organs were being churned to pudding. “What’s with the whole bait-and -switch deal huh? If you’re going for Bond Villain, you need a cat or some shit.”

Eren shifted, uncomfortable for the first time. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” He eased himself down onto the bench where the team normally sat during meets, leaning his crutches against the wall beside him.  

“Plus it’s weird seeing people who knew me… before. I can tell that they’re trying to act like everything’s normal but then I catch ‘em staring out of the corner of my eye. You can look, you know.” He waggled his stump. “It’s just a fucking meat sack.”

Jean, who had in fact been intently examining his shoelaces to avoid doing just that, raised his head.

“Sorry, I didn’t want-”

“Ah, cut the bullshit.” Eren waved a hand dismissively. “Since when have you ever been worried about offending me?” The wolfish grin had returned.

“Fuck you.” Just to prove a point, Jean reached over and poked him just above where the skin tapered off into thin air.

The other boy froze, then blew out a long, determined breath.

“Good. See? I can take it.”

Jean raised an eyebrow. “So? If that’s the reason you lured me all the way out here, it’s pretty lame.” He sat down next to Eren, tucking his hands between his knees to keep them from shaking.

With a surprising amount of dignity, Eren grasped his shoulders, looked him squarely in the eye and proclaimed, without a hint of fear or irony in his voice, “I think I have a big, gay crush on you because I haven’t been able to get your stupid face out of my head.”

“ARE YOU SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW?” Jean briefly considered wringing his neck and throwing his body in the pool, but though the better of it.

_Levi’d kill me for making a mess._

Eren flinched, instinctively curling inward like a bug that had been poked with a stick. “Forget it,” he mumbled. “I’ll just go now.”

“No! Wait, that’s not um,” Jean’s brain cast about for a coherent thought but was unable to find one in the mire of emotion. But Eren was standing to leave, an angry flush spreading up his neck and over the tips of his ears.

_For the love of Christ, you can’t let him walk away again. Spit it out! Tell him how you feel. Open your goddamn mouth and-_

He settled on simultaneously grabbing Eren’s hand to yank him back down on the bench and leaning forward to smash his face against Eren’s, dragging teeth across his bottom lip until he elicited a gasp.

For a moment he simply stood blinking uncertainly, before letting out a soft _whoah,_ and running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

“C’mon man, I had a whole speech planned. I practiced in the mirror for _hours_.” Eren muttered in an attempt to regain his composure. He tilted his chin upwards, teasing.

“Moron.” Jean said smugly before he was silenced by another kiss.

Granted, the location was not ideal. The air was humid, damp, and reeked of chlorine, not to mention the unforgiving tile wall against his back as Eren pressed forward. His tongue was clumsy, but he showed no sign of slowing down or taking any direction.

_Typical._

Jean decided to fight fire with fire, and dug his nails into the soft flesh around his ribcage. Eren pulled back with an indignant squeal.

“Pay attention, Asshat. I’ve kissed more people than you; I know what I’m doing.”

Eren stuck out his tongue. “Yeah, well if you’re gonna be my boyfriend or whatever, you should get used to it. Maybe you just don’t know what you’ve been missing.”

“Boyfriend?” Jean’s heart did an odd little seasick swoop.

“Isn’t that the whole point of all this?” He asked testily.

“Y-yeah! I’m just trying to picture how the team is going to take the news. Connie and Sasha might actually die laughing.”

Eren snorted. “Fuck ‘em. They’ll come around.” He paused. “You’re really okay with it though? I know everything’s moving so fast…”

“I’ll be fine. I uh, can’t say part of me hasn’t been wishing this would happen for the past few months.”

“Ha I knew it!”

“Did not!” Jean wanted to punch the smug smile right off Eren’s face. They bickered all the way into the parking lot, where Armin was waiting with an equally satisfied smirk.

_If anyone suspected anything it was HIM._

They said their goodbyes, Eren brushing against Jean’s hand like he wanted to give it a squeeze but then changed his mind. The light that had been missing from his eyes since the accident was back in full force.

Jean sighed as he watched the two boys leave. The warm and fuzzy feelings he’d gotten from the whirlwind confession were slowly dissipating in the light of all the challenges ahead; dealing with Eren’s injuring, telling their friends, and most of all their families.

_Dad’s gonna shit a brick._

 


	21. Chapter 21

Sweat poured down Eren’s face as he navigated the obstacle course Pixis had set up for him. Stairs were gradually becoming more manageable, but it still required a lot of effort and concentration to perform an act that he hadn’t had to think twice about before.

_I can’t wait until I can get fitted for a damn temporary prosthetic._

His stump was shaping up nicely according to the doctors, due in no small part to Mikasa’s careful wrapping, but Eren itched to fill the empty space in his pant leg, to ditch the crutches that left ugly purple welts under his arms no matter how much he padded them with hand towels.

_Not to mention a more natural gait,_ he thought, cursing aloud as he tripped over a weight that had been left lying on the floor from someone else’s therapy.

“Well done!” Pixis nodded approvingly. “How do you feel?”

“Tired.” Eren had long since learned it was useless to lie to the old man. “But it’s a good kind of tired.” _Like I just finished a hard workout at practice._

“You’ve made excellent progress. Let’s think about trying a temporary next week, shall we?”

“Really?!”

Pixis nodded, and wheeled himself closer so that he could put a hand on Eren’s knee.

“You’ll have to keep getting new ones as your stump settles into its final size and shape, but the sooner we get you used to the feel of the thing, the better your results are going to be.”

“That’s great! I can’t wait to get rid of these,” Eren made a face at his crutches. “There’s just one thing I’ve been meaning to ask you…” He hesitated. _Do I even want to hear the answer?_

“Oh?”

“What about swimming?”

Pixis’ eyes twinkled. “You’re healed enough to submerge the limb, so I don’t see why not. Obviously you can’t swim with a standard prosthetic on, so you’ll have to make some adjustment to your technique. And don’t try it without close supervision!” he admonished, his mustache bristling sternly. “You’ll find that it takes a lot more energy, just like walking and everything else. Be careful about over-taxing yourself.”

Eren was barely listening.

_I can get back in the pool again! And he said I can’t swim with a standard prosthetic, does that mean…_

“Certain companies do make custom swim legs,” Pixis continued, as if reading his mind, “but let’s worry about that later. You’ve still got a ways to go, son.”

_I’ll fight my way back, no matter what it takes._

Eren took a long drink of water and braced himself for another round of hobbling about the room.

 

* * *

 

“You look happy,” Mikasa noted as soon as she picked him up from therapy.

It didn’t take long for Eren to relay the good news. Mikasa brought the car to a full stop so that she could lean over and envelop him in a hug. They sat in the embrace for a full minute without speaking, until Eren realized she was trying not to cry.

He started to awkwardly pat her head, which made her sit up and wipe the corners of her eyes in a businesslike manner.

“Have you told anyone else yet?”

Eren waved his phone at her so she could see he was already halfway through composing a text to Armin and Jean.

“I think I’m gonna wait to tell the rest of the team though. Wouldn’t want to jinx it, right?” He chuckled nervously, “You can talk to Annie about it or whatever, I don’t care.” _If she doesn’t already know. I wouldn’t be surprised if you two had some weird telepathic connection at this point._

“My lips are sealed until further notice,” Mikasa promised solemnly.

The conversation turned to lighter subjects; the various facial contortions Hanji brought about in Levi over the course of a single practice, Annie’s penchant for wearing mismatching socks, a discussion on what Eren should get Jean for his birthday and a following lecture about why he shouldn’t have waited until the day before to start looking.

He was saved when his phone started to blast ‘Toxic’ by Brittany Spears.

“Hey Jean, Mikasa and I were just talking about how much of a loser you are.”

“Fuck, dude.” A muffled sob.

“Not you too!” Eren’s own voice was shaking; partially from shock, partially from disbelief, but mostly from the overwhelming relief that he could see light at the end of the tunnel.

Jean choked out a chuckle. “Alright, fine. Should I tell Coach to make an extra special workout to kick your ass for being away for so long? Seriously, I’m so happy for you.”

“Honestly, I’ll be so glad to get back in the pool again, I don’t care if I have to do a whole practice with Levi sitting on my back.”

Even Mikasa smiled at that.

“Do you think um, you could come over? I’m really excited and all but…” _The past few weeks have been such a roller coaster. I don’t know if I can wrap my head around all of this yet. Part of me’s still frustrated that this is what I have to be thankful for._

“Are you kidding? I started walking the minute I got your text. Hell, I’ll probably get to your house before you do.”

 

* * *

 

Jean fought the urge to pace the front porch as he waited for Eren and Mikasa to return. Armin sat next to him, the thick schoolbooks put away for once. Together they shouldered the oppressive anticipation in silence.

An approaching motor.

“It’s them! I’d recognize the sound of that van anywhere!” Armin sprung from the step as they pulled into the driveway. He almost knocked Eren over with the force of his hug, and his “congratulations” was lost in the fabric of Eren’s shirt.

Jean hung back, suddenly unsure.

_Does this moment belong to me? We haven’t even been dating for very long and it was sort of my fault to begin with. Maybe I should just go home and call him later tonight…_

 Mikasa grabbed his sleeve and dragged him over to the little group.

“I guess this means I’m part of the family now,” he muttered sarcastically to hide the lump in his throat as he was enfolded into their circle.

“Don’t spoil the moment,” Mikasa deadpanned, but she gave his wrist an affirmative squeeze.

They decided to stay outside and enjoy the beautiful autumn sunlight that would soon fade to bleak winter days. Armin disappeared into the house and came back with a jug of apple cider that they passed around. Eren nestled his head against Jean’s shoulder, and he reveled in the warmth.

“Is that your phone?”

“Huh?” Jean snapped out of his reverie.

“You’re vibrating,” Eren grumbled. “I didn’t think you were THAT happy to see me.”

“Guys, PLEASE,” Armin yelped, cradling his head in his hands. “I thought Annie and Mikasa playing footsie all the time was bad enough-”

“Don’t bring me into this.” Mikasa took a calm sip of her cider.

 As they continued to argue about who did what and in a grosser fashion, Jean awkwardly shifted his hips so he could see who was calling without disturbing Eren. It was a number that he only saw a few times a year; usually on holidays or birthdays.

_Shit. Dad’s plane must’ve come in._

“Who is it?” Eren asked, poking Jean in the side where he knew it’d make him jump.

“Nobody important.” Jean sighed and rested his back against the step. The sky was clear and blue, he was surrounded by friends and his boyfriend was on the mend. It was time to celebrate. This could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaack! Sorry for the long wait, I've been caught up in a bunch of other projects including adapting this fic into an original story (!!!). I've got the rest of Deadman's Float planned out so I'm hoping to finish it in a relatively timely manner. Consider this chapter a nice little fluff oasis before I kick things back into gear hehe.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Your comments and kudos truly inspire me <3


	22. Chapter 22

Eren flopped down hopelessly at a table at the foodcourt. Never before had the mall’s gleaming white tiles and orderly rows of shops seemed so daunting. Not to mention, he was ready to punch the next person who couldn’t stop staring.

“Mikasaaaa, what should I get him?”

“You’re his boyfriend, shouldn’t you know best?” Annie reached across the table and snagged a potato chip off his plate.

“I didn’t ask _you_ ,” Eren grumbled crossly.

Mikasa shrugged her shoulders. “What does he like other than swimming? Though if you ask me, a nice pair of goggles is a practical gift.”

_I should’ve asked Sasha to come instead. She’s pretty good friends with Jean and there’s an off chance she wouldn’t just suggest gift certificates to different restaurants as a birthday present…_

“Music?” Annie suggested.

Eren shook his head, shuddering at the thought of standing in front of a real live cashier holding something that was suited to Jean’s taste.

_I’d never be able to go back to FYE again._

“What did I say about waiting until the last possible minute?” Mikasa asked archly.

“Come on, I was excited about the whole prosthetic thing!”

“For three whole days?”

Without warning Annie froze, and slid her chair a foot away from Mikasa’s, her posture so rigid and uncomfortable that you’d never guess they’d been holding hands a moment before.

“My Dad’s here,” she whispered through clenched teeth in response to her girlfriend’s startled look.

Mr. Leonhart shared his daughter’s blond hair and icy eyes, though his face was squarer and less graceful. He nodded at the group without smiling, and Eren got the same chill he did when he first met Anne.

_I can see where she gets it from._

“Hey Dad, these are my friends from the swim team I’ve told you about.” Annie said in an uncharacteristically small voice.

“So these are the people you’ve been spending so much time with, eh? I didn’t realize ‘Eren’ was a boy. Guess that explains why you’ve never had them over.” He ruffled Annie’s hair affectionately. “What? You thought your old man would be the protective type standing out on the porch with a shotgun?”

“Cut it out,” she hissed, brushing his hands away is if they were flies circling her head.

“I’m just sayin’ you can tell me about these things.” Mr. Leonhart winked at Eren, who smiled weakly. “It’s natural for girls your age to start looking at boys. Just stay out of trouble!” He cuffed her shoulder. “Alright, I’m done embarrassing you. Call me if you need a ride.”

As soon as he was gone, Annie slammed her fist down on the table hard enough that Eren could feel the vibration from where he was sitting.

“I hate this,” She whispered, half to herself.

Mikasa didn’t say anything, but her napkin was shredded into a snowy white pile in her lap.

They left without getting Jean a present.  

 

* * *

 

“So how’s school?”

Jean shook his head, still trying to shake the twilight-zone feeling of having his father sitting in their living room munching on a bowl of peanuts like he hadn’t been gone for a year and a half.

“Fine.”

“Your mother tells me you’re still swimming?” He loosened his tie and took another sip of beer.

_Once upon a time, I’d have made you laugh with stories about Coach Levi._

“Mhmm. I made the Titans this year.” Normally Jean would’ve been ecstatic to pass this news on; swimming was the one thing his mom never could manage to get interested in. Now his palms were coated in sweat and all he wanted to do was get this stupid dinner over with.

_You’d call me ‘champ’ and we’d run through the statistics of everyone one the team._

“Atta boy!” Mr. Kirchstein chuckled. “You still aiming for Trost University?”

_I can’t look forward to your approval anymore. Not with mom and I hiding a secret right under your nose._

Jean nodded, longing to pull out his phone to text Eren about how ridiculous it was that he thought he could just drop in and out of his life as he pleased without repercussions. And that Jean would be fine with that.

“Yup. I should be able to get a full ride with Coach Levi’s recommendation.” He hated the small spark of pride that flared in his chest when his father beamed even harder.

  _Hurry up Mom, come in and tell us dinner’s ready before he-_

“So, do you have a girlfriend yet?” Mr. Kirchstein winked conspiratorially, as if Jean would’ve tried to hide that information from his mom.

Instead of anger at the assumption and the awkward questions that were sure to follow, Jean felt pity.

_He doesn’t know me anymore. He’s just trying and failing desperately to connect, going through all the motions but not understanding that all the questions in the world won’t bring back the bond we used to share._

A snarky response about how he must’ve finished reading the “Absent Father’s Guide to Parenting” on the plane danced on the tip of his tongue, but he was saved when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

“Sorry Dad, I really gotta take this. It’s um from the sport’s recruiters at Trost.”

Jean ducked around the corner, then into the broom closet across from the living room.

“Hey Eren, what’s up?” _Please make it quick._

“I’ve got a surprise for youuuu,” the voice on the other end of the line taunted. “Okay not really, I was a dick and forgot to get you a present for your birthday, so you gotta come over to my place so I can feed and entertain you and shit.”

“I can’t, sorry. Family dinner thing tonight.”

“Oh so I’m not invited?” The change in Eren’s tone from teasing to irritation was so sudden it was like a slap in the face.

“I’ve only been to your house like, twice since we’ve started dating and your mom seemed cool enough! Are you embarrassed of me?” He continued scathingly.

Jean felt the pressure that had been building in his temples all evening start to throb.

“My Dad’s here, otherwise I would’ve asked you, Jesus.” There was a small hitch at the back of his throat.

“Sorry,” Eren muttered, chagrinned.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jean snapped. “Anyways, I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.” He hung up abruptly.

_I just needed a little support-why’d we have to fight? Stupid, selfish asshole made it all about him. And now I gotta go back out and pretend that everything is fine._

He took a few long breaths to collect himself in the darkness, concocted a suitable lie about college inquiries and swim team policies, and plastered a fake smile on his face before he strolled back into the living room.

 

* * *

 

Eren threw the phone down moodily on his bed.

_How was I supposed to know his family situation was so tetchy? He never mentioned any problems, and I don’t even remember his dad very well. He was off on business trips all the time when we were kids._

He rubbed at his stump, still red and raw from therapy. Pixis had warned him that chafing would be normal as the skin adjusted to the new surface of the prosthetic, but his leg felt like one giant blister. He couldn’t imagine wearing the thing for a single hour, let alone all day.

_Though I guess I shouldn’t be one to talk. Mikasa and I haven’t exactly been sharing our lives with Dad either. Would he be okay with it, or would this just be something else to fight over?_

Eren frowned. He’d never thought of his father as a political man, but surely his mother would have supported him and Mikasa. He couldn’t picture her mouthing off against people like the red-faced bigots that occasionally made it onto the news.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of footsteps down the hall, followed by a soft knock on his door.

“Come in,” he grunted.

_Too heavy to be Mikasa, but Dad never comes-_

“Eren, I’ve been thinking.”

“Well that’s not a good sign.”  _Has he noticed how much time Jean and I are spending together? Especially since I used to complain about him all the time?_

Grisha clenched his fist, then loosened the tension slowly, consciously.

“I haven’t been fair to you or Mikasa in the past few years since your mother died.”

Eren’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline. _You can say that again._

“And?” If this was some sort of apology, he wasn’t going to make things easy.

Grisha sighed and took a few hesitant steps into his son’s room. He opened his mouth soundlessly a few times before he was finally able to speak.

“And, and your accident has only made me realize how precious the two of you are to me. You know that your mother and I were intending to adopt Mikasa officially before she got sick…”

A small flame leapt to life in Eren’s chest.

Grisha swallowed hard. “I think it’s long past time we made that happen. It’s what your mother would have wanted and I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay, Dad,” his voice wobbled dangerously. Eren half-rose off his bed, but his father met him the rest of the way, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. He closed his eyes and breathed in the familiar, woody scent of Grisha’s cologne; he still smelled like a dad, even under the antiseptic hospital scent.

“I want us to be a family again,” Grisha whispered into his shoulder.

“Me too, I missed you.”

They pulled away, each wiping at their cheeks, embarrassed.

“Did you tell Mikasa yet?” Eren managed to get out.

An old glint returned to his father’s eye; one Eren though had died along with his mom.

“What, and ruin the surprise?”

The flame in his chest burned a little brighter. 


	23. Chapter 23

Jean lay spread-eagle on his bed the morning after his agonizing birthday dinner, listening to his parents fumble around the kitchen as they attempted to make their own breakfasts without fighting. He angled his neck so he could see the time on his alarm clock and groaned. He and Eren had an unspoken standing date on Sunday afternoons; the one day of the week that wasn’t clogged with school, swim practice, or physical therapy. They usually met at the elementary school playground, then drove to some coffee shop that Eren had gone to with Annie and wouldn’t shut up about. It was nearly always the highlight of Jean’s week, but today he dreaded the encounter. Their little spat from the night before still stung.

Jean swung his legs over the side of the bed, feet recoiling from the cold floor. He shuffled blearily over to his closet, trying to ascertain what color his shirts were without turning the light on.

_He’s gonna be all pissed off and defensive right off the bat, especially since I hung up on him. Will we even make it to the coffee shop or will we just start shouting at each other before we even pass the swingset?_

He thought about his parents dancing around each other downstairs; avoiding eye-contact, speaking only in stiff niceties.

_Two people who throw themselves together and then get violently blown apart- is that all a relationship is?_

Jean shook his head, disrupting the gel he’d been carefully using to sculpt his hair.

_Stop being so melodramatic._

Still, Eren’s callousness rankled him.

_All I needed was a little support. Is it that hard for him to shut his damn mouth and listen to me for once? Maybe my problems aren’t exciting enough. Boo-hoo divorced parents. Just like every other goddamn kid our age…_

The anger was back, hot and irrational. Jean shoved boots on his feet and stomped out the door without saying goodbye. He realized that he was actually looking forward to their meeting now. If Eren wanted a fight, well, he was going to get one. 

  


* * *

  


Keeping Grisha’s secret from Mikasa was proving harder than expected. It bubbled underneath his skin, threatening to burst forth from his lips. Even when his father decided that the weekend would be dedicated to “Fall Cleaning,” Eren couldn’t help but grin.

 _How symbolic. New beginnings, and all that._ Though he suspected that this had more to do with the cobwebs reaching critical mass in the basement than it did with a grand gesture of renewal.

“You seem very happy today,” Mikasa noted with a slight hint of suspicion in her voice as she put down her dust rag to crack her back. “I thought you hated sweeping.”

“What? Oh yeah, I do,” Eren flicked the broom lazily, sending a small puff of dirt her way. “I just uhh, I dunno. I guess it’s nice to be well enough to do dumb shit like this.” _Even if it’ll take me twice as long to finish, not including rest breaks._

She gave him on of her rare smiles. “We’ll see how long THAT attitude lasts.”

“Yeah, yeah, enjoy it while you can,” he grumbled and swept a larger cloud in her direction. “I gotta meet Jean at one though, so I’ll have to split early.”

Mikasa pursed her lips. “Now that’s more like it.”

They cleaned in silence for a while, until something that had been bothering Eren since his talk with Jean finally made it past his lips.

“Does it ever bother you that Annie wants to keep everything secret?”

Mikasa paused, duster poised in mid-air.

“I’m… happy that she wants to share that part of herself with me. She’ll share it with others when she’s ready.” She scrutinized Eren. “It wouldn’t be fair to try and pressure her. Some people care more about others’ expectations of them than we do.”

 _Well that would explain why Jean was so pissy last night._ He mentally smacked himself on the forehead. _Looks like I’ll be doing damage control this afternoon._

“Yeah. Of course,” Eren mumbled and Mikasa placed a hand on his head.

“You have got to learn to stop putting your foot in your mouth.”

“Yeah, I’ve only got one left to stand on,” he shot back. Mikasa rolled her eyes so hard he thought they might fall out of her head.

  


* * *

  


Jean peeled into the parking lot with a screech of brakes. Eren was already leaning against the slide, scratching shapes in the dust with the point of one of his crutches. From his car, Jean could only see the slump of his shoulders, his face turned downward to focus on the doodles.

_Is he angry? Sad? Bored?_

Jean slammed the door and steeled himself for the worst as he headed over with no small amount of foot-dragging. The scripts of countless half-arguments he’d concocted on the drive floated around in his head.

_He hasn’t even noticed I’m here yet despite all the noise. Oblivious as always._

Sweat gathered on his palms and Jean opened his mouth to deliver a scathing greeting when Eren’s head snapped up.

“Ha! Looks like I beat you here for once,” he waved, grinning cheekily.

Jean froze in his tracks. Eren’s body language was loose and relaxed, the smile genuine.

_He’s not mad…_

In an instant the desire to fight rushed out of him like steam from a boiling pot. He hadn’t realized how much energy he’d been investing in the buildup of anger until his knees wobbled and he almost tripped.

“I’m uh, sorry about the other night.” Eren took a hobbling step forward. “I didn’t mean to be such an ass. Again. We’re gonna do your birthday over at my house, to make up for the crappy one. Mikasa might even bake a cake... Hey, are you okay?”

Jean furiously wiped his eyes. “Of course. It’s allergies.”

_I’m so damn lucky._

Eren shuffled closer until their chapped lips were pressed together. It was an awkward embrace; Eren’s balance was tenuous at best so there was a little swaying and snickering into each other’s mouths, but to Jean everything felt exactly right.  

  


* * *

  


“Again!” Annie hollered from her position on deck. “Remember you have to compensate for your kick now- use those arms to drive yourself forward.”

Eren wiped his brow and took a few deep gulps of air in preparation for another lap down the pool. Pixis had been right; it was almost like learning how to swim all over again, his body struggling against unfamiliar movements, his equilibrium gone. He could feel himself getting stronger with every session, though, and that’s what really mattered.

Annie gave him a high-five once he reached the other wall. Eren clung to the gutter, gasping. Cramps raced up and down his arms, but it was a good release of energy that helped burn away his nervousness.

 “That’s enough for today,” Annie said, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m not hauling your drowned ass out of the water. Nice work,” she added as an afterthought.

“Do you really think Coach Levi’s gonna let me do this?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Annie jerked her thumb at the office door. “He went in there a couple minutes ago. Probably working on the roster for the next meet.”

Eren’s heart clenched painfully. He’d taken care to avoid most of the coaching staff and teammates other than a select few; scheduling his practices with Annie when the pool was mostly deserted, and skipping the locker room entirely and changing at home (it was easier to dress without looking at his stump there anyways). They were still painful reminders of what he’d lost, and he didn’t think he could stand anyone’s pity-filled eyes drifting to the little nub sticking out of his swim trunks. Not without throwing punches.

_Coach Levi might be different though. And if I want this to actually happen…_

Annie leant him her shoulder to help navigate the slick and treacherous pool deck. The office door seemed much larger than it had ever been before, and there was a plastic Do Not Disturb sign dangling from the knob.

_Did he steal that from a hotel?_

Eren didn’t have time to ponder the question because the door was flung open just as he was reaching out a tentative hand to knock.

“I figured I’d be seeing you eventually,” Levi drawled, ignoring the fist poised a few inches above his forehead. “Come in. Don’t get the floor wet.”

Annie shrugged and let Eren hobble in himself. Fortunately the room was cramped, though impeccably neat, with a chair facing the Coach’s desk only a few hops away.

“Umm so how’s the team?” Eren squeaked from a throat that suddenly seemed about an inch smaller in diameter.

Levi brushed off the question with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Less shitty. Though it’s a lot quieter during practice without you splashing all over the place.”

Eren realized with awe that this was the Coach’s way of saying he missed him.

_I might just be able to pull it off._

“What are you here for?” Levi asked bluntly.

Eren cleared his throat and bowed his head. 

“I want to swim in the final meet.”

Levi’s dark eyes flashed and he steepled his long, thin fingers like a Bond villain.

“I think we can do something about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter!! Thanks for sticking with me.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said this would be the last chapter? I LIED.

The loudspeaker crackled to life and a fuzzy voice announced the start of the final event between the Jinae Natatorium Swordfish and the reigning champs, the Sina Aquatic Center Titans. Participants in the 200 free relay were to report to the starting blocks.

The Titans held a comfortable lead, thanks largely in part to some incredible performances by Annie Leonhart and rookie Mikasa Ackerman. Both would be moving on to compete at the national level, and were expected to perform well there too. The boys’ side had also put in some solid swims with Connie Springer nabbing second in the fifty free, and Jean Kirchstein pulling a surprising upset to win the 100 backstroke from lane two.

Eren blew out a long breath and struggled out of his warm-up pants, revealing his naked stump for the first time since the meet started. This was it. Nerves fluttered at the back of his throat like a hummingbird. He refused Armin’s outstretched arm and hobbled the length of the deck on his own, though he was sandwiched between Connie and Jean, whose hands reached out to steady him if he faltered.

_Don’t want to be any more of a burden than I am already. Hell, I figured Coach’d stick me in an exhibition heat, not the final event._

As they approached the blocks, Levi sauntered over and cast a jaundiced eye over the relay team.

“I hope you’ve been practicing your hand-off,” was all he said before the referee blew his whistle and they hustled to the start, adjusting caps and goggles as they went.

“You ready?” Jean asked, biting his lip uncertainly.

Eren could only nod as Reiner gave him a comforting slap on the back that nearly bowled him over. _Since when did the lights in here get so bright?_

The gun went off and Connie was gone in a spray of water. Cheers rose from all sides, but Eren couldn’t bear to watch the race. In what felt like no time at all, Reiner was diving in and Connie was hauling himself out of the water grinning.

“That’s definitely a PR!” He panted, his excitement undimmed by exhaustion. “This is gonna be a meet to remember, I can feel it.”

Eren’s stomach turned. _I’d hate to disappoint you guys, but I don’t think I CAN win._

Jean gave Eren’s hand a little squeeze before he too mounted to blocks in preparation for Reiner’s return.

_Less than a minute to go…_

The noise in the pool was deafening, which meant that the competition was either very close, or one team had pulled far ahead. Without speaking, Connie and Reiner proffered their shoulders to help him stand on the blocks. Eren swallowed hard. He’d practiced diving in off the side of the pool with Annie; an adjustment the ref would surely allow due to his condition. He hadn’t expected this.

Standing on top of the blocks, wobbly and unstable as he was, felt like a victory in and of itself. Murmurs rippled through the crowd and Eren tried to ignore the hundreds of eyes that were swiveling in his direction. Unconsiously, his gaze drifted to his mom’s old seat and he almost fell over in surprise at the sight of his father sitting there, clutching a program book as if his life depended on it.

_Focus._

Jean came in strong off his flip turn and was tearing down the pool. With a jolt, Eren realized his teammates had given him a nice, fat lead. He let the chaos around him fade away, tracking Jean’s entry into the wall like a hawk.

_We’re not going to fuck up this time._

He tuned in to the beat of Jean’s stroke, watching the smooth skin of his back glide through the water like had so many months earlier. Behind him, he felt his teammate’s reassuring presence, ready to catch him should he stumble. Jean was closing in. His time had come.

Eren curled his toes under the block and propelled himself forward with every ounce of force he could channel through that single foot. He hit the water, his entire body tight and straining in streamline; he couldn’t afford to lose any speed with sloppy technique anymore. Three kicks and he broke the surface, his arms working double-time to compensate.

_Hold your breath, just a little longer. Breathing slows you down._

Out of the corner of his eye, Eren could see his opponent gaining on him and he drove himself harder, but the other boy still passed him with apparent ease. Eren turned his attention to the black stripe running along the bottom of the pool and let Mikasa’s words from the night before flow through his mind.

 _You aren’t swimming today to beat anyone. You’re doing it to prove you can in the first place. This is about you, not him._  

He flipped a little too slowly, foot barely kissing the wall, but he refused to let that discourage him. His lungs were bursting but he waited until he’d covered the requisite distance to breathe.  Eren’s arms burned from the exertion but the wall was still about ten yards away…

The rest of the world fell away until it was only him and the water; muffled splashing, the occasional gasp for air. His limbs were filling with static numbness, but he pushed harder.

_Almost there._

Eren’s fingers slammed mercilessly into the wall, sending mini shockwaves all the way up his arm. He broke the surface with a huge gasp and his head was instantly filled with the roar of the crowd. Against his better judgement, he peeked at the scoreboard.

_Dead last. Still…_

A hand reached down, which he grabbed like a lifeline as he was half-dragged out of the pool.

“I can’t fucking believe it dude, you killed it out there!” Connie’s face was inches from him, vibrating with excitement like a sugar-high toddler.

Eren chuckled weakly as he stood on a shaking leg. Reiner was grinning from ear-to-ear oblivious to their loss, Mikasa and Annie were running towards him heedless of the slippery tile, Levi was nodding appreciatively, the crowd was on its feet, and Jean…

Jean was wrapping his arms around him, something warm and wet falling on his shoulder. Then he was pressing his lips against Eren’s in a sloppy, joyful kiss.

“My dad’s here, you know,” Eren muttered when they broke apart, the back of his neck flushing.

The tips of Jean’s mouth twitched up in a wicked smile.“So’s mine. Fuck ‘im.” And he kissed him again.

 

* * *

 

The car ride home was filled with stony, uncomfortable silence. Jean twiddled his thumbs in the backseat, avoiding the accusing eyes in the rearview mirror.

The triumph of the meet was still fresh enough that he could wrap it around himself like a protective cloak; Eren’s face shining as his teammates enveloped him, punching his fist in the air. There had been revelry in the locker room since to top it all off, they’d still managed to win the meet despite the relay. Connie had stood on a bench and delivered a long-winded toast that was largely drowned out by various victory chants. During it all, Armin had carefully herded the four relay members together so that Bertholt, the only one tall enough for the job, upended the Gatorade cooler on their heads with a rueful, whispered “sorry.”

That just about made up for his father’s malevolent stillness, the air in the car stewing in preparation for their own personal storm.

Jean patted his hair, which was now beginning to dry in chlorine-stiffened clumps. He cleared his throat.

“My Coach’ll write me a letter of recommendation- I should definitely get a scholarship for Trost now.” Levi’s cold, iron handshake had assured him of that.  

Mr. Kirchstein huffed through his nose and hit the brakes a little harder than necessary at the next stop sign.

“Are you sure about that?”

Jean looked up sharply.

“You need to watch your behavior,” his father continued, “That little…display could affect your chances if anyone saw you.”

“Are you kidding?! You didn’t seem to care when Mina ran up to kiss me before finals in eighth grade.”

“That was different.”

“Why, because she was a girl?” Jean wished he could snatch the words right out of the air and cram them back into his mouth, but it was too late.

The tips of his father’s ears reddened. Green, yellow, red; the light changed and they screeched to a halt at an intersection.

“I’m serious Jean. I want what’s best for you and this…” He threw his hands up in the air “fling, phase, teenage rebellion, or whatever could seriously damage your future prospects. I’m only trying to lookou-”

“Well maybe you should’ve stuck around,” Jean snarled, hands tugging at his seatbelt. The car was suddenly too small for the two of them; the tension heavy as a thundercloud about to burst.  “I’m serious about this too- Eren is my,” he paused, gathering the term on his tongue like he could spit fire, “boyfriend. And maybe I don’t give a shit whether you like that or not.”

He yanked open the car door, deaf to the muffled cursing as the light flashed back to green and his father was forced to drive off. Jean took off at a jog, knowing full well that the elder Kirchstein would circle the block and come back for him. For a while he just ran aimlessly, determined not to think too hard about the consequences of what he’d done.

Finally, Jean slowed to a walk and filled his lungs with chilly air.

_Well there’s no going back to the way things used to be._

Instinctively he punched in Eren’s number, and was rewarded when he picked up on the second ring.

 “It’s your dad isn’t it?”

Jean nodded breathlessly before he remembered Eren couldn’t see him.

“Yeah. I just gotta-”

“Where are you? Dad took his own car since he was coming from the hospital- Yo Mikasa, turn around!” He shouted without bothering to cover the mouthpiece.

“It’s fine,” Jean heard himself saying. “I’m just kinda… confused right now. I think I need to be alone to process everything for a bit. Talk to you later though.”  The world felt dreamlike; sharp and intangible as he hung up against Eren’s protestations. His insides were tied up in knots, with too many complicated emotions wrapping around each other to pick out a single one.

_What’s Dad gonna do? What if he doesn’t want to see me again?_

 He kicked out at a rock and watched it skitter down the pavement. Jean felt a small wave of guilt that he might actually be okay with that arrangement. Besides, now he didn’t have to hide anymore. Everything was all out in the open and he couldn’t control how his father would react. There was a small amount of comfort in acknowledging that.

_It wouldn’t be my fault._

Jean blew out a long breath and looked up at the cloudy sky, which was beginning to darken. He chewed his lower lip; it’d be pretty awkward to come home now, his tail tucked between his legs because it was getting cold and dark.

He toyed with his phone before realizing he had a text message waiting for him already.

Eren: if u need a place to crash tonite our couch is free.

Eren: hell my bed is free. Dad was so excited about the race that he was busy high-fiving all the swim families and missed our smooch. 

Jean blushed to the roots of his hair in spite of himself. After a brief, stiff call to his mother to assure her he wasn’t dead in a ditch and that he’d be sleeping over at a friends’ house (he pointedly neglected to say which one and his mom didn’t ask), he began the long trek to the Jaegers’.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR THE PUN

The air was warm and breezy by the time all the paperwork had officially gone through and the Jaeger household was prepared to legally welcome its newest member. Winter had finally given way to spring, and daffodil buds were beginning to poke their yellow heads out of the soil in yards all around the neighborhood. Nationals had come and gone, with both Annie and Mikasa narrowly missing out on the finals. To Eren, the season was full of promise; he was on schedule to pass all his classes thanks to Armin’s patient tutelage, and beginning of his life with a permanent prosthetic leg.

Standing in his boxers, he carefully adjusted the straps around his stump and gave himself a once-over in the mirror. It was a fairly realistic prosthesis, though the hard, shiny surface wouldn’t be mistaken for skin by anyone with decent eyesight. Eren took a deep breath and pulled on a pair of shorts. They were long, but not long enough to cover the hinge that now functioned as a knee joint.

  _Not bad._

He grinned at his reflection and raked a hand through his hair to muss it up. The guests would be arriving soon.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Eren hurried to answer it, relishing the silence as he moved about without the cumbersome thumping of crutches. His gait was far from balanced; his walk had an uneven, swaying quality like a sailor returning to land after a long voyage that Pixis had to keep reminding him was normal for an above-the-knee amputation.

As soon as he opened the door, Sasha and Connie tumbled in, arms full of grocery bags, followed by Jean and Annie in her customary slouch with her hands in her pockets.

“Armin show up yet?” She grunted.

“Yeah, but he’s stationed halfway up the block to make sure Mikasa doesn’t come home too early. We gotta get these decorations up before everyone else gets here.” Eren gestured at the living room table, which was covered in streamers. On the floor beside it lay a hand-painted sign that read “Welcome to the Family Mikasa!” He knew Mikasa would probably prefer a small gathering of close friends, but he was so excited he couldn’t help but invite the entire team to the celebration.

Jean pressed a small kiss to the back of his neck, and started sifting through the mountain of craft supplies while Sasha and Connie took it upon themselves to arrange a magnificent spread of snacks.

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later, the porch was crowded with people who spilled over into the front yard and living room, clutching glasses of lemonade and plates of cake. Eren was still adjusting to the prosthesis, so he tried to keep his weight shifted on his good leg.

Any minute now, Armin would give the signal and the party would duck under tables and behind bushes to prepare for the surprise. Or rather, whatever surprise they could squeeze out after Grisha’s final reveal and the colorless court ceremony the following week. 

A high-pitched finger whistle. That was it! Eren crept around the side of the house and pressed himself flat along the brick. Sasha and Connie joined him, tickling and making faces to try and make the other person laugh. From his position, Eren couldn’t see a thing, so he strained his ears to listen to what was going on.

“Hey,” Annie said casually, her calm, flat voice betraying nothing. “Armin and I were wondering when you’d get back.” It sounded like Armin was leading her up the porch

Mikasa was still suspicious. “You never come over unannounced.”

“We just thought we’d study together for a little while until you got back,” Armin offered a shade too quickly.

“Where’s Eren?”

“He’s getting ready,” Annie murmured vaguely, though Eren could hear a smile creeping into her voice.

“Ready for what?” Mikasa snapped. “He doesn’t have physical therapy today, Lord knows he barely prepares for tests-”

“For THIS!” Armin exclaimed and the whole from of the house erupted in hoots and cheers.

“Merry Christmas!” Connie bellowed, galloping into the house.

“Happy Halloween!” Sasha crowed as she tossed a handful of confetti she’d gotten from who-knows-where.

Eren charged after them to find Mikasa standing stock-still, absolutely flabbergasted, at the threshold. The rest of the team had sprung from their hiding places with noisemakers and party hats. Grisha presided over it all with a satisfied smirk on his face. For one horrible minute Eren thought she’d turn around and walk straight back the way she came.

“You did all of this…” Mikasa’s lower lip was trembling dangerously. She buried her flushed face in her hands. “I’m so embarrassed,” she hissed at Eren as he sidled up next to her.

“Yeah, well I had to do something obnoxious to cement my position as your brother, right?” The air whooshed out of him as she nailed him in the side with her fist.

“Now we’re even.”

Eren noticed Jean staring blankly off into the distance, and took him aside.

“Are you okay?”

Jean wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, ‘m fine. It’s just… Dad called again last night and I still don’t know what to say to him. Or if I even want to pick up the phone.”

Eren winced in sympathy. The past few months since Jean’s impromptu “coming out” to his father hadn’t been easy. Mr. Kirchstein seemed to oscillate between giving his son the cold shoulder and desperately trying to re-integrate himself into his life, as if to provide an example of a good, Catholic man (as long as he ignored the divorce).

“What does your mom think?”

“She wants us to get along, promote that Health Family image, but I think she’d secretly be happy if I told her I wasn’t gonna see him again. And she stopped forcing me to go to youth group, so that’s progress,” Jean chuckled, but it sounded hollow. “What about your dad? D’you think he’d…”

Eren glanced at Grisha, who was serving up ice-cream. It was a surreal image; his father poised, scoop in hand, the picture of domesticity. He looked relaxed and happy, like he did in pictures taken before Carla's death. 

“I think he’d be okay with it, honestly,” _If he hasn’t figured out we’re a couple yet._ Both he and Mikasa had been getting raised eyebrows and suspicious frowns at the number of sleepovers they’d been having with their respective “friends”.  

“He’s been trying real hard to do more family stuff with us, and I don’t think he’d want to mess that up. But I won’t tell him anything unless you want me to!” Eren added hurriedly. “I’m fine with the way things are.”

“Don’t get sappy on me, nerd. I already thought Mikasa was gonna cry today.”

“Shut up!”

“Damn, it’s been a tough year though, huh?” Jean whistled through his teeth. Eren nodded in solemn agreement.

They stood and watched the festivities from afar; Connie rallying the troops to play “Pin the Tail on Sasha,” who was squawking in protest, Armin and Bertholt engaging in a quiet but heated debate, and Annie stealthily entwining her fingers with Mikasa’s.    

The porch still sagged, but it wasn’t empty anymore. The house echoed with chatter and laughter. Eren still felt a sting of loss, but he imagined he always would; much the same way he could feel the ghost of his toes wiggling every now and then.   

_Sure, this year was hard but at least it didn’t cost me an arm AND a leg…_

It wasn’t until Jean’s jaw dropped open that Eren realized he’d spoken aloud. The room was suddenly very quiet.

“Y-you did not just-” Jean spluttered, his eyes bugging like a fish out of water.

A high, clear laugh sounded from a lonely corner. Annie was bent double, one hand clutching her stomach.

“Are you fucking kidding me, you BASTARD-,” she dissolved into breathless gales merriment.

Eren fought to keep a straight face (and his dignity) but Connie had started to snicker, and Armin’s mouth was contorting into fantastic shapes as he tried to hold it in.

 _We made it. We’ve still got a long way to go, but we’re alive. And sometimes that’s enough,_ he thought as even Mikasa’s stoic shoulders started to shake. Soon the whole room had collapsed into giggles, much to Grisha’s puzzlement. Half the party didn’t even know exactly why they were laughing but the joyful release was contagious.

Eren finally caught his breath and wiped his eyes, but he made the mistake of looking at Jean and they both fell back again.

_Mom would’ve loved this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted the first chapter of this fic a little under a year ago. I still can't quite believe I've actually finished (I had in fact abandoned it more than once). Thank you everyone who's left comments, kudos, or just wandered in to take a look! It's been a wild ride and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. 
> 
> My tumblr is stopblowingholesinmyship if you ever want to stop in and chat.

**Author's Note:**

> (I was tempted to call this fic "snk or swim" but I just couldn't do it.)


End file.
